Dirty Harry (Schtung Chinese New Year Remix)
by mickeylover303
Summary: Companion fics to Dirty Harry. NarutoSasuke.
1. I Close the White Book

So, um, yeah. This thing. But first, since there's no effective way to reply to anon responses on ffnet, thank you for reading and such, as on and off as I am in this fandom.

Also, to anyone wondering about the original Dirty Harry, again, bless your hearts for having put up with that mess. Seriously, though, I feel a little bad for not saying more here, but, for some reason, I hadn't been able to upload or save docs; I received the notice about an invalid request, so I couldn't update WNMS, or clean up as I normally would try to (although that wasn't working, either, because technology just doesn't like me anymore).

Totally threw me off, tbh. Finally fixed that, however, and although this isn't a sequel to Dirty Harry, it's what I've been working on in between, trying to keep myself in the mood, I guess, to help me better organise things a bit, while I'm actively working on the sequel. Any questions about DH, though, because I know it's dense worldbuilding, I do have a tumblr, same handle, same with ao3.

...

_When Naruto and Sasuke reach a turning point in their lives, Naruto tries to deal with conflicting emotions, and Sasuke's life magic makes an appearance._

...

**I. Close the White Book**

"You can come in, Naruto. You don't have to knock."

Naruto pauses, stood in the middle of the threshold to Sasuke's room, hand made into a fist midair, stilled before he can knock on the doorframe.

Right.

Sasuke being able to sense him, he hasn't forgotten about that, but it doesn't mean he wanted to barge into Sasuke's space, especially with how Sasuke's been since what happened at Yuna.

"It's fine."

Naruto drops his arm, taking the words as permission to enter. When he walks in, Sasuke's sitting on the carpeted floor, legs folded, back propped against the side of a large platform bed, eyes trained on the PCD in his lap.

"I thought you were training with Kakashi," he says, a little distracted, brow furrowed down at his PCD, with a quick swipe of his finger, scrolling down blocks of text displayed on the screen.

"I am. Or, I mean, I was." Stopping in front of Sasuke, Naruto blinks, scratching the back of his head. "I already said I was going to come by to see you, remember. Orientation starts tomorrow, so I thought…"

Sasuke gives a soft hum, not exactly brushing Naruto off, but he still hasn't looked away from his PCD, still hasn't looked up to acknowledge him.

It's not like he was expecting Sasuke to be waiting for him, or that Sasuke would run up to welcome him back or anything. They aren't the same kids anymore. Any way he looks at it, really, things just aren't the same. They can't be. Even he recognises that, as much as he doesn't want to admit it, as much as he doesn't want to think about how off things have been between them lately, an unspoken distance that has nothing to do with age.

Ever since he got accepted into the Academy, brought that much closer to their shared dream Sasuke can no longer follow, more and more, it just feels like they're drifting apart.

With a quiet sigh, he plops himself down beside Sasuke, sitting shoulder to shoulder, close enough to touch.

He extends his legs, flexing sock-clad feet, stretching out muscles that are probably going to be sore for a few days; while he appreciates being able to have private sessions with someone like Kakashi, for a guy who seems so laidback about everything, when it comes to training, he's ridiculously intense.

_"You may only be thirteen, Naruto, but don't expect me not to push someone like you beyond your limits."_

"So, I've been thinking—"

Sasuke snorts.

At least that gets him some kind of reaction, less detached, putting Naruto in familiar territory, the usual teasing from Sasuke he can work with.

"Go ahead. Keep making fun of your elders, and see where that gets you in life."

"Yes, Naruto," Sasuke says, with the barest hint of a smile, drawing out each syllable of Naruto's name.

Naruto gives Sasuke a playful bump to the shoulder, allows himself to smile a little, too.

"Anyway," he says, "what I was saying before, you never told me."

Sasuke looks up from his PCD. "Told you what?"

"Knowing how your magic gets, how come you've never tried to heal these?" Naruto points to the right side of his face, finger laid over one of three thin horizontal marks spread across his cheek.

Gloved hands carefully place the PCD on the floor, and Sasuke turns to give his full attention to Naruto. "Is there a reason you're asking?"

"Nothing specific." Naruto gives a half shrug. "Just wondering, I guess. You don't talk about your magic as much anymore. Not like you used to."

_You don't talk to me_, are the words left unsaid.

Sasuke looks down, the corner of his bottom lip caught behind his teeth, soon slipped. One at a time, he rolls down the sleeves of his jacket, slowly, cautiously, pulling the cuffs over the back of each hand, fingers disappearing beneath the thick, ribbed material.

It's not that cool in Sasuke's room, even with how hot it is outside, but Sasuke looks like he's dressed for the middle of September, instead of the middle of June.

"...I don't think there's anything left to talk about," he says, letting his hands fall over his lap.

His chest rises, falls with a sigh, as he raises his gaze to meet Naruto's, no expression on his face Naruto can read. "It's just something I'm going to have to deal with, isn't it."

The calm tone, Sasuke's whole body language, it bothers Naruto as much as it frustrates him, because this isn't something he has to the power to make okay, not anymore, not like he used to.

It still doesn't stop him from trying.

"Somehow, you keep forgetting the fact I'm going to have to deal with your magic, too," he says. "You know. Since I have the cranky guy upstairs, and you're the only other person who can actually talk to him. Not to mention, how weird he gets about your life magic."

"As weird as he is about calling me names," Sasuke says, dry, but he releases his grip on the cuffs of his sleeves, lets them fall back to his wrists. Sitting up, he moves to lean forward, placing a hand over Naruto's knee, as he stares into Naruto's eyes, seems to stare right through him. "Is that why you're asking about my magic, because of Kyuubi?"

Having found Sasuke like this, holed up in his room, studying on his PCD, it's probably as close to moping as Sasuke will ever get, yet even then, it's not enough to overcome Sasuke's own curious nature.

It's already gotten him in all sorts of trouble, because it makes him the reckless kind of distracted, makes him pay absolutely no attention whatsoever to his own wellbeing, which usually ends up with Naruto chasing after him, more worried than someone his age has any right to be, trying to fix whatever Sasuke did to himself, frantically trying to make sure Sasuke stays in one piece.

So the sudden interest in Kyuubi, that's not really surprising, but the underlying concern in Sasuke's voice, that surprises even Naruto a little. It surprises Kyuubi, too, not exactly welcomed, although this time Kyuubi's not openly complaining about whatever attraction that keeps drawing him to Sasuke, making him a stronger presence in the back of Naruto's mind, which does seem to end up happening a lot more often whenever Sasuke's around.

"Some of it's because of Kyuubi, yeah," Naruto admits. "I just didn't start thinking about what they could mean until recently, only after you met him, and he..."

"Oh." Sasuke starts to draw back a little, removing his hand from Naruto's knee, but he stays close, focused on the faint lines of raised skin along Naruto's left cheek. "Haven't you always had them, though?"

"Yeah, they're sort of like birthmarks. Or at least that's what Mom and Dad say. Except they do kind of feel like scars? I mean, as much as you've already used your magic to heal me, I was just wondering, shouldn't you be able to heal those kinds of things, too?"

"Scars? Yeah, probably. In theory, I don't see why I wouldn't be able to, but I guess the reason why my magic never healed yours, is because my magic doesn't see anything wrong with them. Then again, it's not like I've ever intentionally tried to do something like that before."

"Notice, this isn't me suggesting you try something like that," Naruto makes sure to point out. "This is just me trying to be helpful. I know there's not a lot out there about life users, especially all the stuff that goes on with your empathy, but if this is something else that has to do with Kyuubi, something that might help you understand your magic a little better, I just thought…"

There's the smallest upturn at the corner of Sasuke's mouth, this tiny, little uncertain smile that quickly falls away. Eyes slightly narrowed, absently, he begins to take off his left glove, again leaning closer, despite Naruto trying to back away.

"W-wait, wait, that doesn't mean you get to just go ahead and—"

"I'm not," Sasuke says, bare hand already resting against the side of Naruto's face, gently holding Naruto's cheek. "Stop worrying so much."

"You say that like I don't have a reason to worry about you," Naruto murmurs, "like I don't have _reasons_."

Because it's what Sasuke told him then, too, right before Sasuke left with his parents to go off world for the first time, before he had a public episode right there in the middle of Yuna, one of the busiest spaceports on Nagi.

But that was more than two weeks ago, almost a month ago, how long it took for Sasuke to build up his confidence again, in the beginning became bad enough that Sasuke wasn't given a choice about having extra sessions with Iyashi, all those days Sasuke would refuse to see even _him_, so Naruto doesn't immediately pull away from the touch, forces himself to be patient for a moment more, watching for any change in Sasuke's eyes.

There's none.

A few seconds pass, and he blinks, swallows suddenly realising their closeness, the kind of close that marks how comfortable Sasuke's always been with him, how close Sasuke's lips are to his, something he's never really thought about before, but the sort of thought that seems to keep coming up more often than he'd like.

Maybe it doesn't have to mean anything, the easy touches between them, turned into a different kind of anticipation from being able to have Sasuke near him, because they've always had a connection—more than just their moms being friends, more than just Kyuubi being weirdly attracted to Sasuke's life magic, more than Naruto being the one to trigger Sasuke's first empathetic attack.

He's knows he's at that age where it isn't so uncommon to think about those kinds of things, knows he won't be the first or the last one to think about liking someone else that way, because the other kids in his class are doing it, too, pointing out to each other girls or guys they find cute, who they wish they were brave enough to confess to, like Kiba did the other day, after they got their entrance exam results, when he shyly admitted to thinking Ino was kind of cute.

Even Naruto's had a couple of confessions, from people who approached him at the end last term a few weeks ago, his last year in middle school, people he probably wouldn't see again because they weren't on the same track. As nice as he tried to be turning them down, he didn't really think much of it then, not in the same way he's started to think of Sasuke.

In a way, it reminds him of the crush he had on Sakura, his very first crush, so many times he couldn't help but blush around her, would practically gush to anyone willing or unwilling to listen, as much as he'd go on and on about her, except with Sasuke, it doesn't feel like a crush. It feels more like...

He doesn't know when he started to look at Sasuke differently, when Sasuke became more than just someone who'd follow him, someone he'd wanted to impress, someone who'd look up to him, or someone he'd needed to protect, and just..._Sasuke_.

This strange feeling that's already settled a little too heavy in his chest, he's not sure when it started to overlap, when being one of few people able to make Sasuke feel better, became this much more selfish desire of wanting to be _that one person_ able to make Sasuke happy.

But it's still Sasuke.

And he's not sure if it's even right to think of Sasuke that way.

There's this very brief flicker in dark eyes, a worrying flash of _something_ that has Naruto immediately reaching to pull Sasuke's hand away, but then there's this sound, immediately stills his fingers gripping Sasuke's wrist, faint coming from Sasuke, the beginnings of a slow melody, surprisingly soothing, quieting even Kyuubi, so easy to fall into, almost startles Naruto when he realises it's Sasuke _humming_.

"...Sasuke?"

He doesn't recognise the melody, but it's the softest sound, so much softer than his own increasingly harsh breathing, almost like a lullaby, stretched into an eerie sort of stillness, the only other sound he can hear in Sasuke's room.

And suddenly, Sasuke seems so far away, even though his eyes are still dark, like he's not even here, like Sasuke's not even seeing him, not even responding to Kyuubi, because Sasuke's magic is—

The humming stops.

In the quiet, Naruto doesn't move, feels like he can't even breathe, just watches, waits, counts the seconds, starts from one, only makes it to two.

And Sasuke blinks.

"Hm?"

Swallowing, Naruto licks his lips, loosening his hold on Sasuke's wrist but not letting go.

Sasuke starts to sit back, slowly lowering his hand. He glances at his wrist, frowning when Naruto still doesn't let go. "What's wrong?"

Although Naruto opens his mouth, he can't seem to get anything to come out, words no longer on the tip of his tongue, words he can't seem to remember, whatever he was going to say—probably something unimportant, though, since he already forgot.

Shaking his head, he grins, as his hand moves from Sasuke's wrist, trailing up to cover Sasuke's palm, holding Sasuke's hand in his own. "Nothing's wrong. With orientation tomorrow, and then having to get ready to move into the dorms, I guess everything's finally starting to get to me, you know."

"That doesn't mean you're going to slack off, does it?" Sasuke just gives him this _look_, with one eyebrow raised, at Naruto's flat stare, this so highly unnecessarily judgmental look, like he wasn't the one who imposed himself on Naruto first, before Naruto even had a chance to ask for help, Sasuke having already decided that Naruto needed his help to study for the Academy's entrance exams.

"...it's like you don't even _want_ to have faith in me."

But that's okay. Naruto's mature enough now that he doesn't mind letting Sasuke have his way this time, because he knows why Sasuke was so eager to help him, why Sasuke tried so hard to make sure at least one of them got in.

"You're too old to keep asking me to help you with your homework, Naruto. And this time I can't..."

Breathing in, Sasuke looks down at their joined hands. He stares for a few seconds, slowly breathing out, slowly raising his head to meet Naruto's simple gaze with an uneven smile. "This time you really are..."

"I know," Naruto whispers, "but there's still us, Sasuke." He gives Sasuke's hand a slight squeeze, squeezes a little harder, when Sasuke returns the gesture with a lighter squeeze of his own.

"...yeah."

"There's always going to be us."


	2. II Shigoto no Ato ni

_Among many things, Itachi contemplates Sasuke's recently discovered empathy, alongside an eight year old Naruto suddenly becoming a significant presence in Sasuke's life._

...

**II. Shigoto no Ato ni**

There came a time his mother and father would call him a gentle child, behind closed doors, would dote on him as an exceedingly precocious child, the very source of their pride and joy, their only child, a time Itachi scarcely remembers, too brief a period of calm, before the set of unrest quietly growing in the world around him.

There came a time his family celebrated him as a promising child, throughout the recent history of the Uchiha family, at the age of three, to develop empathy, the youngest child, the next prodigy, certain to surpass in magical ability even his cousin Shisui, a time Itachi remembers being praised simply for wielding the rarest kind of magic.

There also came a time he ceased to be a child, outgrew the purview of those around him, sought more beyond the legacy of those before him, while he continued to uphold his family's aspirations without complaint, as he continued to excel in his studies, in magic, commended by his instructors, further distanced from his peers.

It was a time he remembers observing even then, the beginnings of a gradual shift among those in the magic user community, bred from years of a near assured complacency, even among the most prominent families, bubbled by their own prosperity, a wilful ignorance to the stirrings of disquiet, what would slowly amass as the next iteration of anti-magic sentiment, would eventually organise into an underground movement, nearly two decades later would proclaim itself the latest incarnation of Root.

Far too shrewd for his age, emboldened by his own naiveté, he became impatient, began to pose too many questions, too often told not to concern himself with such immaterial things; although his parents occasionally did try to allay his unease, it seemed very few others would entertain his apprehensions. Yet while he allowed himself to appear placated, inwardly, he remained restless, with his own accomplishments grew unfulfilled, found no satisfaction in becoming a political prospect to help ensure his family's continued sway within the Alliance.

No longer mired in a once absolute devotion, he became disillusioned with ideals no more than distorted notions from a time long gone, a truth exposed by those who would exert their positions in the Alliance freely, who would use their name in the pursuit of power, would all but flaunt their status, in the face of even rational, albeit minority opposition, would be so blatant in regards to their own bias.

However, it was also during an era when unbridled ambitions took centre stage, ran unchecked against established norms, from seemingly all sectors, both within and outside the magic user community, unprecedented, a surge of contenders suddenly vying for the most prominent positions within the Alliance on all levels, be it state, military, or academic.

At best, it'd later be considered a pivotal moment for modern day magic user rights and the struggle against magic user discrimination. At worst, it was abject political theatre, a narrative often provoked by radical new actors propelled by their own self-interests, and yet somehow it seemed even more egregious to see it for himself, the duplicity so prevalent within his own family.

Not everyone, though. Not Shisui.

He didn't have much of a relationship with Shisui prior, but his increasingly reclusive behaviour had drawn Shisui's attention, or rather, his behaviour was considered at odds with his family's expectations, and Shisui, already deemed the pinnacle of what of every Uchiha should be, only five years his senior, was persuaded to keep an eye on him.

Instead, Shisui became a mentor. Shisui became his brother. He was someone Itachi grew to trust, not only as someone who entertained his apprehensions regarding the shifting dynamics in their family, but one of the few people who also shared his concerns, also noticed the gradual tension marking their family's increasingly aggressive political gambit, worried about the consequences of a vaulting ambition, the kind of self-serving, hidebound mentality inherently opposed to the very principles that have been advocated by the Alliance since its inception, after the Second Great War.

To sustain those values that have had such a fundamental impact on magic user rights, the precursor to what would legally sanction magic users as _people_, a simple recognition not guaranteed by their existence alone—values he so strongly believed in, still believes in, to continue to ensure them, potentially at the expense of his own family's power and influence in the Alliance...

Therein lay the source of Itachi's mounting turmoil, what would highlight many of the conversations he held with Shisui.

_"These ideals we fight for, Itachi, our sense of integrity, the core of what shapes us as people, they're defined by what we believe in. And if we all have different beliefs, well, who's to dictate what's truly right or wrong?"_

_"But that doesn't mean there's no line. Isn't that what society dictates, whether or not something crosses the threshold between right and wrong?"_

_"In some instances, yeah, it probably is the case. Yet even then, it still depends on the kind of society, where or even when that society is, because morality is highly subjective. And societies have a tendency to change."_

_"...then, why should we adhere to such outdated beliefs, these ideals our name supposedly stands for, when we're so far removed from what our family once helped fight for, the very right for people like us to exist, that we've become so ignorant and prejudiced to anything that may rightfully challenge how we perceive ourselves now?"_

_"Unfortunately, I don't have an answer for that, either. But while it might not always be so clear, what I do know, is that the depth of those beliefs has made us stronger. That's how our legacy was forged. It preserves the bonds created between us, beliefs that have held our family together for so long, why our name continues to protect us, in a world where there are people who will always believe our mere existence to be wrong._

_"Even though our family has a longstanding history with the Alliance, the struggle for power has been a recurring theme. It ebbs and flows with time. Yet as significant as that relationship is, for some of us, our beliefs become misguided. Our motivations become opportunistic. For some of us, we lose sight of what we once fought for. We forget what it means to survive, what we're still fighting for._

_"By the same token, to preserve the legacy of who we were then, to acknowledge who we are now, to remind us who we strive to be, sometimes, it takes personal sacrifice. Even if it puts you in the shadows, it takes putting the name Uchiha above yourself. And for the sake of those who will come after us, it takes putting the needs of this family above your own."_

So many of their conversations he didn't fully comprehend, underlying Shisui's unequivocal devotion to their family, Shisui's words many times tinged with a self-reproach Itachi so often thought oddly misplaced.

And then there came Sasuke.

Itachi was ten, when he became a big brother, when he first held Sasuke in his arms, the first time he began to truly grasp just how strangely fickle, how extraordinarily fragile life could be.

When it finally began to dawn upon him, in that singular moment, unnerving the realisation, watching a yawning Sasuke, dark eyes closed, pale cheeks blotchy, the tiniest little fist refusing to release Itachi's sleeve—to suddenly be responsible for another life, to have someone wholly dependent on him, how so very small Sasuke looked cradled in his arms, frightened him, a realisation that consumed him, how so very easily all of it, everything in that one moment, could be taken away.

Because then he realised he was culpable of the same kind of insular thinking he'd been so quick to condemn others for, effectively sheltered from the harshness of a world he was once foolish enough to believe he understood—the nature of the world swathed in moral ambiguity Shisui had been trying to teach him, trying to help him see with his own eyes, past his own convictions, so much larger than what he'd been exposed to, the certainties not promised to those who lived in the world outside of what he only knew.

If it weren't for the opportunities that had been presented to him, afforded to him the very protections ingrained simply because of his name, as a magic user, the simplest privilege he had admittedly taken for granted, the accumulation of sacrifice from those before him, the significance of a legacy that already ensured his own future, already strengthened to secure a better future for Sasuke.

And yet in that very same moment, as he watched Sasuke fall asleep in his arms, just as suddenly, he desired nothing more than to shield Sasuke from all of it, despite the very high probability Sasuke would inherent magic, born into their family, inherently bound by the heightened expectations attached to their name, silently vowed he would do as much as was in his power to prevent Sasuke from following the path he himself hadn't been able to avoid.

For the sake of his little brother, in that one singular moment, he hadn't hesitated, when he decided he would ultimately place Sasuke's welfare above the needs of their family, at his own expense, perhaps, even to a certain extent, would place Sasuke's welfare above the needs of the Alliance.

Already there was increasing speculation surrounding Sasuke, seemingly from nearly everyone who had so closely monitored Itachi, somewhat alarming, the amount of vested interest in the potential of Mikoto and Fugaku's second son, surely another prodigy among the Uchiha family, another Itachi.

Unlike Itachi, however, at the age of three, Sasuke showed no signs of empathy.

Initially, it was characterised as a momentary delay, thought to have little bearing on whether or not Sasuke would even present as a magic user.

Eventually, though, it became a trend.

The next year, during Sasuke's first professional assessment at four, his lack of empathy was still considered average within the realm of normal development; most children tended to develop empathy around five, no later than six, and the much smaller possibility that Sasuke wouldn't develop empathy at all remained a possibility that was given very little thought.

Three years later, even allowing for the very high improbability of Sasuke developing empathy past the age of six, there were no indicators that would suggest Sasuke would have empathy, and, therefore, would eventually develop the ability to use magic—this, despite the notably high proportion of magic users within their family, as rare as it is to have magical ability.

Within the magic community, their family is one of the oldest, most distinguished families, with records establishing their presence before the First Great War, well before their name was changed from Uchiwa. Following the course of centuries, their lineage has produced some of the most powerful fire users throughout history, with the average magic user often ranking on the higher end of the spectrum, in terms of both empathy and magical ability.

In that regard, certainly, there is a sense of disappointment surrounding Sasuke's inability to continue in that tradition, as so many in their family have done; and although none of it has been specifically directed towards Sasuke, among some, Sasuke's lack of empathy has become a superficial concern, in the form of thinly veiled attempts to cast doubts on their father's capabilities as one of the leaders in their family, one of the few in a small group officially recognised by the Alliance.

Being part of such an extensive and prominent family, holding one of the most elevated titles, held under constant scrutiny, his father is very much in a coveted position of power—power that many already have tried to appropriate for themselves, attempts that, to a degree, have often been offset simply by his father having an accomplished son.

It's nothing particularly novel, a reality his father had impressed upon him early in life, when he first began to have reservations about their family's relationship with the Alliance; regardless of his opinion on the matter, though he's yet to even claim such responsibility, he's still viewed as Uchiha Fugaku's de facto successor, a burden he's resigned himself to bear, if only so it won't fall to Sasuke.

And it's along that reasoning, after discovering Sasuke wouldn't develop empathy, wouldn't become a magic user, as selfish as Itachi knew it to be, he allowed himself a moment of earnest relief—to know his little brother would be further spared those obligations brought alongside the name Uchiha, as a magic user, simply due to the nature of their family's status, expectations Sasuke would've otherwise been beholden to, unremitting standards Itachi still finds himself subjected to, standards still pitting him against Shisui.

Nine weeks ago, Sasuke showed no potential for empathetic ability.

Until nine weeks ago, Itachi foolishly allowed himself to believe Sasuke's lack of empathy would help ensure Sasuke would remain unaware—the truth of their world too many times unkind, intertwined with ideologies often only permitted by necessity, to hide this from the eyes of his little brother, to shield Sasuke from this reality, that would be how Itachi protected their family's name.

Resting his head against the wall, he extends his legs a little, knees bent upright, as he relaxes into the plush cushions beneath him. He grunts at the knee momentarily digging into his thigh, the weight shifting across his lap, before Sasuke settles against him with a soft sigh, small limbs seemingly draped over him every which way.

Rather than try to fit on the bed too small for the seventeen year old he is, on nights like these, Itachi prefers to make himself comfortable on the generous, two-person sofa, for the sole purpose of having somewhere to sleep in Sasuke's room, however uncomfortable sleeping in the chair ultimately still proves to be; although Sasuke essentially has an entire floor to himself, the rooms themselves are designed for children, relatively large, yet in Sasuke's case, predominantly occupied by medical equipment, with scarcely any space remaining to bring in a cot that wouldn't fit Itachi, anyway.

Despite recent efforts to transition Sasuke from an increasingly unhealthy dependence on him, on nights like these, nights when Sasuke will lie awake waiting for his arrival, but doesn't wait to greet him at the door, swamped in Itachi's old trainee-issued jacket, lips pursed, dark eyes rimmed red, slightly blurred, thin white blanket clutched in one hand, his other hand already outstretched for Itachi to take, breath hitched when Itachi gently takes the small hand in his own.

Nights like these, nights too many since he's returned to Nagi on temporary leave, he knows it means Sasuke didn't have a good day, so he does what he can to appease his little brother, allows Sasuke to lead him to the sofa, the moment he sits, Sasuke already climbing on to his lap, already curled and wrapped around him, when Itachi adjusts the thin blanket over him.

"...do you want to talk about what you did today?"

Against Itachi's shoulder, Sasuke gives a vehement shake of his head.

"Do you want to talk about how you're feeling now?"

Sasuke repeats the gesture.

"Aren't you uncomfortable sitting like this?"

Once more, Sasuke shakes his head.

"Does that mean you're going to hold on to me forever?"

At this, Sasuke nods his head, and Itachi smiles a little, indulges his own soft amusement at the small hands fisting the material of his shirt, Sasuke doing his best trying to burrow into him, small arms trying to bring Itachi closer.

Before having empathy, Sasuke had always been selectively conversational, anyway, but now, and especially in the aftermath of an episode, sometimes, Sasuke simply prefers the quiet, when it's simply the two of them, slowly lets himself relax, pressed against Itachi's chest, soothed by the sound of Itachi's breathing.

With Sasuke like this, he doesn't expect much in the way of conversation, and curtails his own curiosity that would've typically had him further press a less than forthcoming Sasuke for answers.

As taxing as Sasuke's episodes are, both mentally and physically, Iyashi's maintained that Sasuke's resulting anxiety is a normal response, and a symptom that has to be treated progressively, but he's also stressed the importance of preventing Sasuke from going into further emotional withdrawal, while still being mindful of Sasuke's comfort level at any given time.

From what Iyashi's determined, at this stage in Sasuke's empathy development, the more Sasuke tries to detach himself from his emotions, the more susceptible he becomes to his empathy, and the higher the risk of him having an empathetic attack, since Sasuke seems equally affected by the emotions of others, as much as his own, simply because his empathy does allow him to feel so strongly.

The compromise is what Iyashi has termed dailies.

(It isn't the most creative name, perhaps taken too literally, derived from the insisted frequency of its purpose, which is to be implemented on a daily basis; although considering Iyashi's candid, almost blasé demeanour, it's a term suitably appropriate nonetheless.)

Dailies serve as an active measure to gauge Sasuke's emotional health, based on a less confrontational approach that encourages him to become more comfortable acknowledging his emotions, instead of trying to avoid them altogether.

More importantly, they're part of the foundation towards helping Sasuke build his own emotional barriers, which Sasuke can only do by willingly reconnecting with his emotions.

At its core, the effectiveness of giving Sasuke dailies relies heavily on being consistently reinforced, supplemental to Sasuke's therapy sessions. And so far, it has been successful, to the point where Sasuke no longer needs to be held under constant medical supervision.

It's only been a month since Iyashi began to advise them how to gradually incorporate dailies into regular conversation, without having the questions appear as an interrogation, and yet, between the three of them, he and his parents have been able to seamlessly establish dailies as a normal part of Sasuke's everyday routine.

Sasuke's usually given them towards the end of the night, sometimes also during the day, however often, depending on his mood. While overall an assessment of Sasuke's emotional state, in effect, it's a combined technique to help him practice mindfulness: alternating between asking very simple, unobtrusive questions, and providing affirmations whenever Sasuke is more receptive to his emotions, in order to promote positive associations, reassuring Sasuke that it's okay to feel those emotions.

He glances down when Sasuke shifts, as the grip on his shirt loosens.

"Are you feeling better?"

Sasuke's left shoulder rises and drops in a small shrug.

"Did Iyashi say something to upset you?"

"...I don't want to go back," is the murmur into Itachi's shoulder, Sasuke's fingers lightly tugging on Itachi's shirt.

"Do you think seeing Iyashi hasn't been helping you?"

Sasuke lifts his head, peering at Itachi with a near frown, brow scrunched. "No, Iyashi, he...I told you he feels safe now. And he's helped me a lot, but I still don't like when he asks me to talk about it."

"You don't like when he asks you to talk about your empathy?"

"He keeps saying I'm doing better, but what if it happens again? What if I can't—"

Sasuke lowers his head, resting it again over Itachi's shoulder, both hands tightening their grip on Itachi's shirt. He breathes in sharp, swallows, breathes out as soon as his chest falls, shallow breaths that become quicker, as his body starts to tremble, still pressed against Itachi, unable to bring himself any closer.

Eventually, his shaking begins to subside, at Itachi's hand gently running along his back, Sasuke's chest falling slowly, as his body relaxes with another inhale, his breathing slowed, even, fingers once more unfurling from Itachi's shirt, again curled into fists, grip turned loose.

The likelihood of Sasuke suffering another episode, unquestionably, it's high. There's nothing Itachi can say or do to assure Sasuke otherwise. Worse, there's nothing to indicate when another attack will occur, or what specifically may cause it, seemingly that arbitrary in nature.

Fortunately, the considerable progress Sasuke's made in a relatively short period, at least it's had some bearing on the magnitude of his most recent episodes, which means the only recourse, is to focus on the continued development of Sasuke's emotional barriers.

Despite the many variances within the professional study of empathy and magic use, it is generally accepted that, when a child begins to develop empathy, defined as the level of sensitivity to emotions, their empathy develops gradually, which allows a child's natural emotional barriers to develop in tandem with their empathy.

Sasuke doesn't have that innate defence mechanism. His empathy came unexpected, abrupt. And because it came so suddenly, Iyashi believes Sasuke wasn't given the time to develop those conventional protections that have become so well associated with empathy; in his experience, even among the cases of children who do fall behind the normal development curve, discovering empathy at a later age, he's admitted it's much more a matter of how long it takes a child's empathy to fully develop, rather than whether or not those natural barriers are still being retained.

The first time Sasuke suffered an empathetic attack, before anyone truly knew what it was, Itachi had been stationed off world, on assignment in Naus, one of the military's more remote satellite bases, already a year out from the Academy, officially enlisted, preparing for his second year in the SFTI programme.

He'd been assigned to a small, rotating unit, the four of them designated as acting tactical combat instructors over the summer months, overseeing trainees from various academies throughout the Alliance.

It was their second week on location, but he remembers being particularly aggravated by the heat that morning, as windy as it was, kicking up sand in seemingly every crack and crevice, in their equipment, in his clothes, too much sand all but fused by sweat to his skin.

(For anyone stationed there, the running joke was that Naus only had one season: _too goddamn hot_.

As a mandatory training post, Naus was inevitable for any cadet, regardless of their academy, more than earning its reputation as the _Shit Stop_. For enlisted personnel forced to return, it was affectionately known as the BFE, a miserable desert environment, purposely utilised to inure trainees to harsh, nearly intolerable conditions.)

He also remembers being particularly annoyed with his batch of trainees, far too idle on the field, yet with no shortage of complaints about the weather, most of them save for Cadet Haruno, the only one who showed any promising initiative, a great deal of it; she came from Jushin, one of the smaller, lesser-known academies, classed as a B-rank earth user, although, apparently, she'd already applied for the med track.

It was almost a relief, when Sai told him he was being called into the communications tent, a brief respite he didn't mind taking advantage of. He took his time, took a more scenic route that still led him there rather quickly, lifting one of the tent's large flaps and heading inside.

Why his superior had requested him, however, relaying a message from his mother, it was the last thing he'd ever expect, because back home, back on Nagi, at the Capital, nothing was supposed to happen to Sasuke.

Without having empathy, without having magic, somehow, the thought of anything happening to Sasuke didn't factor in.

And yet without warning, he'd collapsed during class. He'd had some kind of fit, was apparently still having them, although they didn't appear to be seizures, because he was in pain severe enough that he wasn't allowing anyone to touch him.

Despite the numerous advances in medicine, how quickly the majority of ailments actually could be treated, after two days, still, no one could pinpoint what was wrong, nowhere near a diagnosis that would explain why Sasuke seemed to be in a near constant state of debilitating levels of physical pain.

Immediately, he applied for emergency leave. The turnaround time was quicker than he'd expected, most likely aided by the fact his mother's message had actually been transmitted a day prior, and the communications office, for whatever reason, was running on at least a twelve-hour delay.

He didn't know the reason for the mishap, especially considering the communications office was responsible for the only accessible lines able to make contact outside of Naus, but rather than dwell on why the office hadn't been alerted to the message earlier, he occupied himself by coordinating his leave.

Within two hours, his request was granted. While searching for a replacement suitable to take on his trainees, he was able to secure transportation. By the end of the night, he was leaving Naus, on a flight home.

From the time his mother had sent the message, since Sasuke had been admitted to Reife, it'd taken Itachi three days to return to Nagi.

Three days too long.

His father met him at the door to the isolated ward where Sasuke was staying, preventing him from rushing in. He stood to his full height, stood rigid, yet appeared haggard before him, as if he hadn't slept in those same three days, posture slightly uneven, his clothes noticeably wrinkled and worn, even his tie in uncharacteristic disarray.

It was a peculiar image, made peculiar still by his father's rare display of uncertainty, echoed by the hesitation in his voice.

"Before you..."

"How bad is it?"

"Nothing's changed. No one can tell us what's wrong. At this point, your mother and I, we don't know what to do, but Sasuke..."

"What about Sasuke?"

"You need to prepare yourself, Itachi."

On the flight home, his parents had tried to warn him, during video calls, did their best to keep him informed.

The sedatives still weren't having any effect. Sasuke would still scream himself hoarse, as much as his lungs would allow, parch his throat, to the extent he'd become dehydrated. He was still refusing to eat, refusing to drink, thrashing so much, he kept ripping out his IV line. He was even refusing to sleep, trying to keep himself awake.

Inevitably, he would fall asleep, and sometimes, a nurse would use the opportunity to reinsert his IV line, although as soon as anyone tried to approach him, Sasuke would wake up screaming.

As an intervention, the use of physical restraints had been suggested, but his parents both agreed it was too excessive, even as a last resort. If anything, based on Sasuke's reactions to even the notion of physical contact, it'd only serve to make Sasuke's discomfort worse.

And yet it still didn't prepare Itachi.

As long strides took him past his father, as he opened the door to the ward, walking toward Sasuke's room, as the commotion muffled in the background suddenly became louder, disturbing, all too clear, nothing would've been able to sufficiently prepare him.

Never before had he seen his little brother in such agony, so very small against the stark white of the bed, even smaller surrounded by doctors and nurses and medical aides, hyperventilating, absolutely terrified, as he tried to push away from any kind of touch, a multitude of hands trying to comfort him, trying to hold him still, screams torn from him ragged, the most harrowing sound, among too many voices trying to soothe him, a handful of voices back and forth reading his vital signs aloud.

In his haste, he barely recognised his mother, as he passed her, as he made his way to Sasuke, moving everyone else aside, paying no heed to his parents' warnings, as Sasuke moved to reach for him, simply reached down to take Sasuke in his arms.

Immediately, Sasuke stopped screaming, immediately latched on to Itachi, small arms reached around him, the beat of his heart erratic, fingers clinging desperately to the folds of Itachi's shirt, as Itachi lowered himself to the small bed, Sasuke burying his head into Itachi's chest, through shuddering breaths, soft murmurs of _niisan_ a seemingly endless refrain, as Itachi gently hushed him, gently began to rock him, his own whispers repeated soft assurances of _I'm here_, until Sasuke's exhaustion finally took hold.

As Sasuke slept, the rest of the room gave way to quiet, looked upon them. His mother stood beside him, as his father walked through the door, stood beside her, despite nearly palpable their relief, still uncertain, their expressions weary and drawn.

How he was able to calm Sasuke, why he seemed to be the apparent exception, what separated him even from their parents, he didn't know.

Not even the doctors knew. Among the specialists consulted, many brought in from outside Reife, considered the best of the best, bar none—a week later, still, none of them could determine was what wrong.

It wasn't until the following day, while observing Sasuke's behaviour around Itachi, that Sasuke's paediatrician, Doctor Tate, said she was going to recommend a referral to Iyashi, who was one of the foremost authorities on childhood empathy development.

Honestly, at the time, it did seem like a bit of a stretch, contradicted for years what they've been told. At seven, Sasuke still hadn't shown any of the traditional indicators for either empathy or magical ability; in regards to that particular issue, he'd already been seen by many different experts, and each of those experts, knowing both Sasuke's history and their family's history, came to the same conclusions.

However, Itachi and his parents truly were at a loss, as to what steps they should take next. While it didn't seem the most viable option, it certainly wouldn't hurt, for Sasuke to see Iyashi. Doctor Tate also went in depth to explain what she knew of Iyashi's research; referencing journals she'd read chronicling the types of situations Iyashi typically dealt with, his experience with very rare cases that initially presented as outliers; and directed them to additional resources they could explore.

The only problem, with Iyashi being in such a highly specialised field, was whether or not he'd be willing to personally take on Sasuke's case.

Fortunately, it took little convincing.

It certainly wasn't cynical to believe their name may have had some influence on Iyashi's decision, because people have used their name before, to further their own interests, but it also seemed that Iyashi was more so motivated by his own academic curiosity, as intrigued as he was sceptical; the conditions surrounding Sasuke's seemingly sudden attacks, alongside the apparent intensity Sasuke suffered through them, what Iyashi would later attribute to Sasuke's empathy, frankly, it was unheard of.

A few days later, during the follow-up appointment to that initial consultation, Iyashi theorised Sasuke had an exceptionally high level of empathy, so much so, that it couldn't be fully measured by the original Suzuki Scale, although he couldn't resolve why Sasuke still lacked any corresponding magical ability.

With Iyashi agreeing to take on a principal role in Sasuke's care team, much of what he proposed as a comprehensive treatment plan for Sasuke remained largely experimental, because Iyashi had never come across anything even vaguely comparable to Sasuke's situation, as confident as he did seem in his ability to help Sasuke manage his empathy.

It began with family therapy sessions, whenever their parents could make time to attend, since Itachi's request for extended leave had been cleared; due to the extenuating circumstances, he was allowed an indefinite stay, with Nagi officially listed as his temporary deployment, provided he could fulfil the duties assigned to him.

It continued with cognitive and behavioural exercises tailored specifically for Sasuke, constantly tweaked to better assess Sasuke's evolving needs. Gradually, without needing Itachi to act as an emotional buffer, Sasuke became more comfortable around other people, although at a time, at most one or two, and that eventually led to the one-on-one sessions Sasuke's able to have with Iyashi now.

Sasuke may be too young to fully appreciate Iyashi's more direct method of approach, but Iyashi's been remarkably astute; while he doesn't necessarily have the most expressive personality, especially considering his expertise, without trying to coddle Sasuke, Iyashi simply has a way of pushing him to identify and confront his emotions, teaching Sasuke how to cope with his empathy, without overwhelming him.

"It's not so bad having empathy anymore, but sometimes, when Iyashi says to pick something, and try to think about how it makes me feel, I just...what happened last week, I don't want to go through that again."

"It's okay not to like talking about it."

"...I know. That's what Iyashi says, too."

"And it's okay to be scared."

Sasuke swallows, shaking his head against Itachi's shoulder, eyes squeezed shut, as he breathes in deeply, relaxes, breathing out with a soft sigh.

"What about the rest of your day?"

"...it was quiet."

"That's good."

Turning his head, Sasuke opens his eyes, with a quick glance towards the bedside table, where a small model ship's on display, next to a homemade card, the background coloured bright orange, with large characters simply written in dark blue, reading the words _Hope you_ _get well soon_. "...I got to see Naruto today."

"You did?"

"Mm." Sasuke gives a slight nod. "He couldn't stay long this time, because he has to get ready for his class trip to the aquarium, but it was still nice being able to see him. He even said he was going to take pictures for me. And maybe one day we can go back to visit together—did you know Naruto's dad used to be a fighter pilot?"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, just like you're going to be. And Naruto wants to be one, too. Just like me. That's why he's letting me keep his ship. Oh, and then we both decided we're going to the Academy. Although we probably won't be in the same class, because he'll get to go there first, since he's older than me."

"It sounds like you have a lot in common."

"We do."

"Is that why you like when Naruto visits?"

"Well, it's not just that, even if he is a little too loud sometimes, but also because Naruto, he...Naruto's like you. And when Naruto's around, it doesn't...

"...I know my empathy won't hurt anymore."

The word _safe _is how Sasuke's come to define the people in his life, his world suddenly so much smaller, in terms of who it doesn't hurt him to be around, a circle that's expanded beyond Itachi to encompass their parents, Iyashi, most of Sasuke's care team, as well, gradually extending to Kushina and Minato.

However, initially, that circle wasn't limited to Itachi.

It happened to include Naruto, too.

Perhaps, in this particular situation, it shouldn't be so surprising, how quickly Sasuke and Naruto were drawn together, how easily they were able to develop that level of mutual attachment seemingly overnight.

He's not sure what it means, not yet, but he also doesn't quite think it coincidence.

It is curious, though, that Naruto does have such a significant impact on Sasuke, from the onset of Sasuke's empathy, had the ability to immediately calm Sasuke by his presence alone, seemingly the only other person able to do so.

Before that day Sasuke collapsed in school, despite past attempts by their mothers to prove the contrary, he and Naruto weren't friends; neither had been interested in participating in arranged play dates, more often than not, devolved between childish bickering and long periods of silence from a shared, stubborn refusal to speak.

With their families passing through similar crowds, of course, they did grow a little more familiar with one another, on a much more polite basis, through brief encounters during dinners and luncheons, that kind of affair, or, on the rare occasion, when brought along to more formal political functions.

Age aside, they were simply on different paths. Naruto developed empathy, presented with a strong affinity for wind, was developing his magic. Sasuke developed neither. Apart from having that one class together, they had no real semblance of a relationship.

How close they weren't then, compared to how close they are now, for all intents and purposes, to Sasuke, Naruto may as well have been a complete stranger.

It's still a little difficult to grasp, what Sasuke and Naruto have, and to achieve that in such a short span of time—as if mere days, passed into a few weeks, standing the test of two months, could result in the kind of intensity that's created the near instantaneous bond between them.

Children could be notoriously fickle at times, one moment presumably the best of friends, and then suddenly no longer on _seeing terms_, going as far as to avoid even eye contact over some of the most seemingly inconsequential things, many times the simplest misunderstandings thrown out of proportion, all of it somehow forgotten the very next day.

Being around Naruto, however, despite any prior distance or childish enmity between them, it's done wonders for Sasuke, for both his empathy and overall emotional development. He's smiling again, slowly regaining his confidence, as inquisitive as he's ever been, less afraid of his empathy, becoming more and more the child he used to be.

Naruto's been able to benefit from their interactions, as well, although Itachi suspects Naruto's still struggling with self-imposed guilt, however misguided the sentiment, first made manifest by his initial attempts to befriend Sasuke, overcompensating for an incident that wasn't his fault.

He doesn't believe Naruto chose to become Sasuke's friend out of any sort of obligation, though. Their relationship, it delves far beyond the scope of what happened between them that day, and Naruto's apparent ability to quiet Sasuke's empathy; the driving force behind their friendship, as it continues to evolve, there's this almost visceral attraction, between them the kind of emotional connection that closer and closer lends itself to a lingering permanence, precariously close to encroaching upon co-dependency.

Already, Naruto's taken it upon himself to take care of Sasuke.

Already, Sasuke's responded in kind, already looks to Naruto as easily as he looks to Itachi, with the same wide, credulous eyes, already decided to believe in Naruto's promises that _everything was going to be okay_, just as readily as Naruto made them.

What's been most surprising, is how naturally Naruto's fallen into his self-appointed role as Sasuke's protector, and how dedicated he is to fulfil the most critical promise he's made, that'd he was going to be the one to take care of Sasuke.

To Naruto's credit, he's extremely perceptive for his age, in part due to his own empathy, which is already well above average, but especially where Sasuke's concerned, able to sense Sasuke's moods, reacting instinctively to what he believes Sasuke needs, putting himself between Sasuke and the problem he perceives, which occasionally does apply to Sasuke's care team.

While not necessarily combative or disrespectful, or even intrusive, Naruto will become defensive on Sasuke's behalf, if only because Sasuke won't always speak up when his empathy's bothering him.

Although touch alone no longer seems to consistently trigger an episode for Sasuke, he still isn't completely comfortable around more than two or three people at once, still has his moments even during vitals, and Naruto knows this. Without being told, he's seen it.

That same fiercely protective streak, Itachi does wonder sometimes...

It's not so much as a concern, as it is a simple curiosity. That'd be more than a bit premature, to judge Naruto's actions in that context, when there's nothing that would even have him assume Naruto's intentions include any ulterior motives.

He knows Naruto, this amazing little boy he's watched over, watched grow, Kushina and Minato's son. And this sudden notion of having to entrust the emotional welfare of his little brother to another child, though hesitant he may be, he'd also be incredibly remiss to deny the substantial role Naruto currently plays in Sasuke's life.

Lately, however, as Sasuke and Naruto continue to become closer, there have been a few instances that have given him pause.

Naruto's inherently protective nature, the extent to which that kind of staunch devotion applies to Sasuke, it certainly exceeds to affect Naruto on a subconscious level.

Every so often, towards the end of normal visiting hours, returning from his commute, entering Sasuke's room, he'll stumble upon the sight of them sleeping—late in the afternoon, the two of them taking a nap, Naruto sharing the small bed where he comfortably fits, facing the doorway, facing Sasuke huddled against him, Sasuke's head tucked beneath Naruto's chin, his face hidden by Naruto's chest, Naruto's arm around him, Sasuke almost disappeared beneath the thin white blanket raised past his neck.

Sometimes, he'll catch Naruto on the verge of waking, will catch a flicker of emotion that darkens blue eyes, somehow a maturity that seems beyond him, in Naruto's gaze, perhaps once or twice a trick of the light, but a fleeting glimpse into an emotion further obscured, quietly assessing, an expression he still can't decide how to place.

Those moments pass quickly, mere seconds before Naruto will recognise him, blue eyes turned bright, will simply smile at him, greeting Itachi with a sleepy murmur of _Welcome back_.

To be honest, it is a little disconcerting.

Of course, it has nothing to do with being Sasuke's older brother. He realises there's only so much he can do for Sasuke on his own, and he's not going to begrudge an eight year old, for having that kind of closeness with Sasuke.

By all means, he's grateful that Sasuke has someone like Naruto in his corner, not only as someone close to him in age, but someone who also happens to fall so closely within their family's orbit.

His parents have known Kushina and Minato for years. They've long been friends, long before he was even in born. Above all, especially considering who they are, having such prominent political careers, being in positions of power that don't allow them to take relationships at face value, his parents _trust_ them.

And he does, too.

So, as much as he worries for Sasuke, he also worries for Naruto.

He remembers two weeks ago, that Tuesday afternoon, as Naruto was getting ready to leave, remembers speaking to him outside the ward, asking Naruto whether he felt he was being forced to visit Sasuke.

Naruto frowned, eyes squinted in thought, a thought formed rather quickly, before he looked to Itachi with such an earnest sincerity, his response a child's enviable ability to rationalise their place in the world with the simplest reasoning.

"I don't visit Sasuke because I'm forced to come here. I visit Sasuke because I know it's the right thing to do, but then I...I don't want Sasuke to be alone, either. And I really like Sasuke, too, because we're friends now, so, wanting to look out for him, that's still okay, isn't it?"

And yet, despite those kinds of selfless declarations, the innocent reasoning of a child, Naruto is still just that, a child—however deeply he's come to care for Sasuke, however genuinely happy he seems just being Sasuke's friend.

According to Kushina and Minato, the apparent quest for Sasuke's friendship, that was entirely Naruto. Well before he was aware of the effect he had on Sasuke, mind already decided, he sought Sasuke on his own.

Which isn't at all hard to believe, considering Naruto's wilful personality, sometimes the equivalent to a penchant for trouble—often fuelled by a righteous conviction that once spurred him to skip school, to take a public transport by himself, then sneak into the hospital, in order to see Sasuke, in order to see for himself that Sasuke really was okay, before he was caught by Nurse Mitate, and subsequently chased out of Sasuke's room.

Since then, Kushina and Minato have been more than accommodating, partially to dissuade an already determined Naruto from again trying to run off on his own to visit Sasuke, but also because they're sensitive to Sasuke's situation.

It's obvious where Naruto stands on the matter, and they choose to support him. Although they've addressed Naruto's relationship with Sasuke, they don't try to influence his decisions either way.

Of course, among his parents, with Kushina and Minato, there have been discussions about Naruto's behaviour, about Sasuke's, as well, the potential repercussions that could have an adverse effect on them both.

Still, at this stage in their relationship, it'd do no good to separate them, under these circumstances especially careless to even attempt, because they are still so young.

For now, the consensus is to leave them be. As of yesterday, though, they don't have much of a choice anymore.

He supposes it was inevitable, really, despite the recently increased security detail, despite the numerous precautions taken to ensure them privacy, the news revealing Sasuke's empathy, an entire article focused on Sasuke's apparent lack of magical ability, _The Uchiha Anomaly_—it's too late to get ahead of it.

There've already been rumours because of Sasuke's continued hospital stay. That was always going to be a given. Based on the information he's received from his contacts, most of those rumours are purely speculative, with little substance, if any, reduced to sightings, mentions of people close to their family, seen in passing going in and out of Reife.

It seems fine for now, nothing that would lead him to believe either Sasuke or Naruto were being put in harm's way.

He'll probably need to get in touch with Shisui soon, ask Shisui what he can come up with on his end.

There's something about the situation that gives him a sense of foreboding. The last nine weeks, a series of too highly coincidental events, he doesn't know what it is, but he's learned not to so quickly dismiss his intuition—an intuition that's served him well in life, the same intuition that raised his initial misgivings about his family's place in the Alliance, about his own place disillusioned with the meagreness of ideology, and yet yielding freely bound to his family's inherited legacy.

"...Nii-san?"

Itachi looks down, carefully adjusting Sasuke in his lap, Sasuke's arms around him still yet to let go. "I thought you were sleeping."

"...not yet."

"You're not tired?"

"A little."

"You can go to sleep."

"I will, but...can I sleep here again tonight?"

"You can."

"...will you stay with me this time?"

Sasuke's head still resting over his shoulder, Itachi leans back against the chair, the prolonged position already beginning to wreak havoc on his back, already cause a crick in his neck, but to Sasuke he only offers a small smile, a smile that nearly falters at the faintest little sensation in the back of his mind, a strange sort of warmth not wholly unfamiliar, soothing at the edge of his consciousness, as Sasuke's breathing falls even, falls softly across Itachi's skin.

"...Sasuke?"

Slowly, he brushes away the hair concealing Sasuke's face, gently places his hand against Sasuke's cheek.

But Sasuke's already sleep.


	3. III All Hail King Neptune

**III. Faust**

"Yeah, we're heading out now." Frowning, Naruto reaches for the small receiver nestled behind his ear, giving it a few quick taps. "Damn sand keeps getting all over the place. Almost makes me miss the old training regs. At least nothing could get—"

Sasuke spares a glance behind him, Naruto not quite walking beside him. There's enough space between them to ensure he's walking ahead, a deliberate position that makes it easier for Naruto to act at a moment's notice. It's a tactical decision on Naruto's part, an attempt to provide some semblance of cover despite the fact that if anyone were to attack them, which Itachi (and Naruto, not surprisingly, by extension) believes is only inevitable; left this exposed travelling in the middle of an open desert would pretty much mean they're SOL.

He's too tired to fight Naruto about it, though, still trying to recuperate from the past few days, instead gleaning what he can from listening to Naruto's conversation with Itachi, trying to stave off a mounting irritation at the fact he's being overlooked again.

It's been a regular occurrence for some time now, his brother and best friend-cum-whatever their relationship makes them now, speaking over him as if he isn't there, treating him as if he couldn't possibly understand how the world exists outside the base. Trying to convince them he knows more than they want to believe would be an exercise in futility.

It didn't bother him so much when he was younger, being told certain things were beyond him, when both he and Naruto could be easily placated with simple explanations that assured them it was okay not to understand. Except now that once constant only pertains to him, only continues to drive home how much different his and Naruto's lives have become.

All those nights he and Naruto spent learning everything they could about being a pilot, helping Naruto study when it came to the subjects it sometimes took him a little longer to understand, teasing him over his inability not to ramble despite passing his first field communications test—it wasn't entirely altruistic, somewhat of an attempt to live vicariously through Naruto.

Naruto sniffs, absently tugging on the collar of his black t-shirt, jostling the sleek, black goggles hanging from around his neck. "And that's the real problem. Probably could get away with the damage to the hull."

Yet despite the more obvious differences further branding who they've become, there are still parts of Naruto, things about him fundamental to person he is that haven't changed at all.

"It's because I like having pockets," Naruto once said a few days after returning from his first training mission, with the utmost seriousness, placing both hands on Sasuke's shoulders, when Sasuke had asked about the baggy cargo pants he practically lived in outside the Academy; it made Naruto seem incredibly flashy at times, even without that loud orange jacket, dressed up in bright blues and reds, and yet somehow it still seemed fitting, Naruto's self-declared interpretation of what made an acceptable dress code.

How Naruto was even able to find regulation clothes in those colours, he still doesn't know.

"And it's really, really important to have pockets. Seriously."

"Seriously, Itachi," Naruto continues, faced scrunched in annoyance, tapping again on his earpiece. "I really do think we lucked out there.

"But even when everything's back online, with a ship like that, who knows how sensitive the equipment is. It's not enough to just get it up and running. Got to make sure it can hold out long enough to get us out of here, too.

"I mean, it's enough of a pain that we get shot down and stranded on a desert planet. So, it only makes sense we somehow ended up crash landing in quicksand, right. Why else wouldn't we?"

It's not as bad as Naruto's making it out to be. Admittedly, the ship's protruding from the base of a considerably tall star dune, precariously close to a small basin, surrounded by even taller dunes leading into vast stretches of rippled white sand, offering only just glimpses of sparse vegetation visible in the very far off distance. At least it's not dry quicksand, which probably explains whatever underground water source that's been sustaining Juugo in the prison all this time.

The storm did make it worse, though, moving sand to cover a good portion of the ship and further substantiating Naruto's concerns about granules finding their way into the more sensitive parts of the ship, possible engine ingestion, among a potential slew of electronic problems, never mind the small number of internal systems currently exposed due to the relatively minor damage done to the hull.

The ship still wasn't able to perform an accurate self-diagnostic, let alone connect to Naruto's PCD, not when the power kept cutting off mid-start. With so many things seemingly gone wrong, they hadn't been able to assess much of anything, and could only throw back and forth ideas to see who could come up with the best (what Naruto aptly called) scientific wild-ass guess.

"But other than that one tiny little clusterfuck," Naruto says, "everything else checks out for now."

Really, calling the situation a clusterfuck is well above putting it lightly, but it's still a little weird hearing Naruto speak to Itachi like that, maybe more so in the sense that Itachi allows Naruto to speak to him so casually, despite knowing Naruto is notorious for forgoing formalities with people he's especially close to.

He's not jealous of their relationship, not so much anymore, because he's told himself often enough he's mature enough to accept the fact that Uchiha Itachi's existence isn't solely limited to being his older brother.

"Not that far off. Should make it back in an hour or so."

Sighing, Sasuke counts the breaths shallow that follow coming out a little more uneven, a little more slow. He removes the hood from over his head, welcoming the cool respite of a light breeze after prolonged exposure to the heat, but he starts to stray behind a little,lingers between steps a second too long.

It's one of those times he doesn't mind being overlooked, would rather be wholly unnoticed than the single focus of an overbearing concern.

Unfortunately, Naruto could be the worst kind of inopportunely attentive.

"Before it gets too dark," Naruto says, slowing down to take up the slight variance in pace, keeping Sasuke in his immediate line of sight. "Or too cold."

He blocks from his peripheral Naruto's concerned frown, evades the arm already reaching out to steady him, and straightens on his own, stepping away from Naruto.

He knows he doesn't have Naruto's ample reserves, that much he can grudgingly admit, but even after healing Naruto's arm and the backlash from discharging the corrupted magic imbued in Juugo's collar, having these recurring bouts of fatigue, he didn't think the use of his life magic would affect him this much.

It's not that much farther, though. He just has to wait a little longer for this one to pass, too.

"Definitely, yeah." Naruto sends him another frown, but doesn't mention the near fall to Itachi.

"Yeah, I will. Uzumaki out." He taps on his earpiece, cutting off the line to Itachi. With the back of his hand, he wipes at the corner of one eye, pushing further up his forehead a torn piece of cloth he turned into a makeshift sweatband.

"Itachi and Juugo are all right," he says, without Sasuke even having to ask. "Another storm might be heading our way, but Itachi said it could still change direction, too. Hard to tell, when most of these winds keep coming from different directions."

"Mm."

"…why are you still so tired, Sasuke?"

"It's nothing."

"No, it's not nothing. It's already been a day. Shouldn't you be okay by now?"

"Leave it alone, Naruto."

"Whatever happened when you messed with that collar, I know it did something to you, Sasuke. Don't tell me it didn't. It had to. With how much you had to keep leaning on me yesterday, it must've been really bad for you to still be so—"

"I said leave it alone. I'm fine."

"Yeah, sure. Of course, you're fine. We're all fine. Everything's fine. Everything's always fine, and you just—"

He already had to deal with getting berated by his brother, being told how foolish he'd been, for yet again putting himself in a vulnerable position: not only releasing Juugo from the collar, but willingly tampering with something that'd had such an adverse effect on him.

After hearing it from Itachi, he's really not in the mood to deal with hearing it from Naruto, too. Because despite recognising the truth in Itachi words, despite realising the faults in his own actions, it's still hard to ignore the persistent notion that if their positions were reversed, if it were Naruto instead, his brother would've treated Naruto differently.

Naruto breathes out, unclenching the fist at his side, purposely trailing behind, in his wake the occasional wisp of wind blotting their footprints with sand. "Should be good by now," he says, voice strained to stay even. With a slight nod, he gestures towards the black canteen shared between them, clipped onto the dark grey belt hanging skewed from around Sasuke's hips.

Sasuke reaches for the soft plastic canteen encased in a matching nylon pouch, to the right of the waist bag with two legs straps secured around his thigh. He flips open the cap and takes a small sip, shrugging off the aftertaste from the purification tablet Naruto used after refilling canteen at the basin. He doesn't close the cap, offering the canteen to Naruto still hovering too close.

The slight brush of their hands is a fleeting touch, from Naruto passed along a vehement warmth that does little to undermine the remnants of Itachi's discrete cold, the worst attempt at being subtle, but when he turns to glance beside him, Naruto's already looking away.

…

For all Naruto's complaining about being back in the cave again, Sasuke thinks being in a cave is much more preferable to being trapped in an underground crypt. It'd be somewhat of a disservice to call it a mere cave, though. It's actually one of many cave dwellings, part of an extensive and intricate network of tunnels, a good deal of them dug into the cliffside of a gorge, as least forty metres high, some interconnected from above, altogether a seemingly endless maze of rooms carved from hard layers of sculpted, ashen rock—the room they're in now, one of the more stable ones Itachi had found shelter in after the storm, interestingly enough, there are murals on the wall.

The already scarce spread of colour significantly dulled, on the expanse of wall not yet fully eroded, there were a few glyphs he was able to make out, a series of images portraying what looked to be someone manipulating fire magic, an actual depiction of a fire elemental, from a mural on a planet that's not even charted on their maps.

With so much still unknown about the origins of magic users, with no established science behind the biology of magic users, or magic usage in general, all but non-existent any information about life users and what it means to have life magic, it only makes sense, even if only to take his mind off the situation they're in now, that he's going to jump on the opportunity to learn more.

Although, maybe even more surprising than finding the murals, is how old they seemed. When he'd tried to describe the atmosphere on Barrah, how it apparently affects his magic, marginally oppressive is what he wanted to say, for lack of a better way to explain it, but old turns out to be more fitting. Because there really is something old about Barrah, almost saturates it something old enough to feel ancient, lingers like an uncertainty memory, brings out of him a sort of surreal consciousness that reminds him too strongly of the brief exposure he's had to Kyuubi's raw magic.

He did ask Juugo about the glyphs. Not entirely unexpected, Juugo didn't have the answers he wanted, yet even then the only answer Juugo said he could give was ambiguous at best, if not the basis for the kinds of questions he was having trouble trying to articulate.

"Though not the work of the people from my village, this truly is the work of the people of Barrah," Juugo had said, although with no small amount of awe and an uncomfortably renewed sense of reverence directed towards him.

Itachi hadn't been as approachable, near apathetic despite the brusque nature of his questions, the tension between them heavier still when Itachi walked him to a more isolated dwelling, stood before him impassive, waiting for him to explain the incident surrounding the removal of Juugo's collar.

Naruto's the one who thought he might be interested in the murals, after tinkering with a circumscribed MDP he'd picked up from the ship yesterday, doing his best to fill the increasingly lengthy periods of silence during the slow four-hour hike from the ship back to the cave, not including the time it took to scale the steep rock face.

Sasuke was able to record footage of the mural with the data pad last night, though, earlier this morning jotted down a few notes, alongside the batch of photos he took, before Itachi and Juugo set out for the dale Juugo had mentioned.

Sliding a finger across the small screen, he finishes up with his latest revision, while Naruto's still outside scoping the area begins to look over his notes again, not for the first time since yesterday wondering if this is an instance of him searching too deeply for a connection he simply wants to be there.

If the SatCom wasn't down, he wouldn't hesitate to send his findings to Tenten. If the SatCom wasn't down, they'd probably be off Barrah by now.

But if (_when_, Naruto likes to keep correcting him) they get back home, he'll try to cross-reference the mural and what he knows now about Barrah with information from the PDH. See if he can drag Tenten from the shooting range long enough to make it to the library, although it probably wouldn't take much to convince her.

They've known each other for a little over three years, brought together by a shared interest in magic lore; she'd been doing tentative research about it on her own, stemmed from a then growing fascination with the Second Great War—one day, she noticed him in the library, attention caught by the book she'd been searching for stacked high on his table, and simply sat next to him.

She's one of the few friends he hadn't met through Naruto, one of the few people who hadn't immediately recognised him as the life user who happened to live on base. Although she's not a magic user, she's a year above Naruto's graduating class, training to be a weapons technology specialist. If she hadn't applied for the Academy, she'd probably be an academic, an archaeologist like her parents were. That, or a fortune teller.

"To be an academic is to be relentless in the pursuit of knowledge, in an essentially dead field," she'd used to joke in the beginning, more often on those rare days when she suddenly realised she was an orphan at fifteen, remembered that she lost her parents during that disaster in Tollan, because she suddenly couldn't forget the base wasn't her first home.

"I don't have magic like some of the other trainees at the Academy, but I wanted to come here because I didn't want to feel so helpless anymore. Because I didn't want someone else to end up like me. And that's why I'm still here. Because I still want to believe I really can make a difference out there."

On those rare days she'd quietly seek him out, unknowingly drawn to him for reasons she wouldn't understand until he told her later, suddenly, having empathy was something he didn't mind so much.

"But in a world like this, Sasuke, even if it is easier to believe in destiny, to believe we're greater than what we probably are, wanting to determine our own fate, I think that's what really makes us stand apart."

"…there's still time," he teased, with a light smile she responded to in kind. "If you change your mind about fortune telling. I could introduce you to a few people who'd probably do a lot better with it."

"Yeah, I think I'll leave the politics to you. But I guess being a fortune teller could work out for me, too, you know." She laughed then, grey eyes keen, yet paired with an odd sort of wistful grin. "One does mean fate after all. Two is luck," she said, counting off with her fingers, "and then there's feng shui.

"But if I decide to stay at the Academy, if I keep pushing myself to become even stronger, three years from now, do you think I'll be old enough to make a difference in the world we live in?"

He turns off the MDP and slips it back into his holster bag, fingers running absently along the distressed material.

Naruto still hasn't come back yet, left with only his jacket for extra padding, leaving Sasuke with the emergency blanket; he's better acclimated to harsher climates than most people, with a naturally higher tolerance to the heat and cold, one of those inherent abilities often blurring the line between what may have been Naruto's latent potential and the direct effect of Kyuubi's magic giving him abilities Naruto otherwise wouldn't have.

For as long as Kyuubi's been sealed inside him, though, it's a moot point either way.

Legs folded underneath him, he shifts beneath the thermal blanket and the frayed quilt Juugo had given him placed over his lap, unable to supress a wide yawn. They agreed Naruto was going to take first watch, to let him to catch up on sleep. Or rather Naruto said he was going to take first watch, and Sasuke didn't have anything productive to add the short-lived conversation. Still tired and yet too restless to actually get much of anything close to resembling sleep.

He hadn't spent that much time focusing on the possible implications of the mural. As soon as they returned from the ship, he'd been going over Naruto's preliminary readings, over and over reviewing the ship's schematics, hoping to get a better idea of what was wrong through process of elimination. He was trying to keep himself busy, trying to make himself useful, trying not to think of Itachi.

It hasn't even been a day since Itachi split them up, yet it manages to feel longer after parting on such stilted terms, and the continued separation from his brother doesn't do much to mitigate a gnawing sense of discomfort, even less after Naruto told him Itachi and Juugo had discovered the unmarked ship that had attacked them.

It was a moderate two-person vessel. The kind not meant to handle atmospheric entry, barely anything left of the charred remains to even remotely suggest the slightest possibility anyone could've survived the wreckage, but it hadn't been enough to nullify whatever initial suspicions Itachi held. It made them worse. Although they weren't any closer to identifying the ship, having affirmation that a small fighter equipped with working weapons was even able to fly in neutral territory didn't really bode well.

He doesn't want to say he's worried, but it does bother him, because he knows his brother well enough to know his motivations. He knows exactly why his brother thought it better to separate them.

Itachi could be remarkably intuitive, brutal in his own conviction at times. While he doesn't trust Juugo, which, Sasuke will concede, is understandable for someone in Itachi's position, if the Snake Charmer who did conduct experiments on Juugo and his people is Orochimaru, finding any sort of incriminating evidence against Orochimaru could provide a substantial blow to both Orochimaru's political clout and the higher-ups who've been supporting him financially, especially if Orochimaru has been mining ore to make Magdunium alloy.

However, this deliberate separation was more for his and Naruto's benefit than anything else, to make them less of a target; Itachi wouldn't take the time to cover his tracks, but he told Naruto to take as many precautions as possible, not wanting them to wander far from the ship or a steady water supply. Working under the assumption possible pursuers wouldn't be far behind, however slight the advantage, it was a bid he made to better their odds of escape.

Obviously, Itachi knows more than he's willing to let on, but whether the risks of remaining together as a group outweigh the risks of travelling apart, Sasuke honestly can't say.

"…still pretty quiet." The words resonate within the cave, shuffled into light footfalls echoed static, edging closer, and Sasuke looks up at Naruto's arrival.

Naruto stops at the cave entrance, paused beneath the misshapen arched threshold of conglomerate rock. Loose sediment falls around him and settles among the various pieces of rock spread across the ground. "You can't see our stars here. You can't see any of the stars from Barrah. Did you notice that?"

Sasuke can't say he'd been paying enough attention to notice, really. It's a little surprising Naruto did. Still, it makes some kind of sense, adding more credence to what Juugo said about the Faceless creating a barrier around Barrah. Legend or not, it's not unheard of for oral traditions to be based off some aspect of truth.

"No moons, either."

"Mm."

"Not being able to see any stars in a place like this, it's kind of lonely, don't you think?" Naruto's hand stills near the raised collar of his jacket, fingers toying with the zipper pulled all the way up to the top. Not waiting for an answer, he begins to unzip his jacket. The zipper stops at his chest, exposing the neckline of a black shirt. "I wonder how Juugo survived for so long.

"By the way," he adds, stepping away from the threshold and making his way further into cave. "Itachi said Juugo asked about you again, if you were doing okay."

Sasuke pulls on the cuff of his jacket, watching Naruto bypassing the small fire that brightens the unexpectedly large enclosure. Situated this deeply within the cave offers a modest protection against the cold, presumably a sort of built-in precaution to the weather conditions at night, a result of the intricate system of tunnels and rooms created by people who may have been Juugo's ancestors.

"I told him and Juugo you said hi."

"Did you."

Stopped across from him, Naruto sighs, fingers kneading the side of his neck. "Still no sign of anything from their end, either."

Sasuke yanks on the leg of the blue cargo pantstucked into Naruto's boots, effectively causing him to stumble.

Brought down with a yelp, Naruto lands on his backside, catching himself on the floor with his hands, legs bent, both knees upright, gaze pinned on Sasuke with an annoyed glower. "What'd you have to go and do that for, huh?"

"Give me your hands."

"Why do you need my hands?" Glower disappeared, Naruto blinks, but he crosses his legs and scoots closer, holding out his hands for Sasuke to take.

"Didn't you have enough room in one of those pockets for a pair of gloves?"

"Give me a break, Sasuke. I thought we'd be cooped up in that fancy resort for the next week. Not here. And then I had to pack my suit, the one Dad made me get tailored last month." Naruto groans. "How much you want to bet Mom won't believe me when I tell her my really nice dress clothes got lost in the crash?"

Sasuke responds with a soft hum,motions Naruto closer with a slight tug on Naruto's left arm. It's been two days since they've made contact with anyone, since they were scheduled to make their check-in on Nelvana III. Considering how influential their parents are, though, he doesn't doubt that their political sway is being used to call in a few favours.

The Alliance has probably taken some of sort of initiative, maybe even released a statement, but it's more likely the Alliance would want to keep his and Naruto's disappearance under wraps. Without inflating their importance, simply because who he and Naruto are, even outside politics, they've been in the public eye for a while, covered by the media (not seldom enough), especially in his case. And for them to go missing right before they were supposed to show up at such a critical summit, it looks bad.

But if it was only by accident that Itachi even managed to land them on Barrah…

"Shouldn't you not be doing this right now?"

"Nag me later." Sasuke ignores Naruto's frown of disapproval, laying down Naruto's left hand and holding Naruto's right hand in both of his own. "You know doing this doesn't take that much out of me."

Naruto inhales, releasing a sigh as the cold from his hands is taken away at Sasuke's touch. "So you like to keep saying."

"Besides, I haven't used my magic all day."

"Yeah, yeah. I know how that goes."

Despite his seemingly outward calm, Naruto's been projecting loud enough for them both, sharing in a disquiet that hasn't abated since Itachi and Juugo left. It's not excessive, nowhere near the point where it'd affect Sasuke's empathy, but he still uses the excuse to warm Naruto's hands as a means to alleviate some of Naruto's unease.

From one magic user to another, especially between those who are close, even the simplest touch can have a calming effect. With very few people does it work the other way around for him, but his magic tends to have a much more pronounced effect around others, regardless of whether they're magic users or not.

It's not the same as his Influence, less about inadvertently inducing someone into an intense state of euphoria and more along the lines of being consciously receptive of another person's emotions. Naruto's always been immune to his Influence, anyway.

He blinks away the glint of white that begins to edge at his sight, opening his eyes to the small scratch that cuts across the length of Naruto's palm. Maybe a scrape from the ship when Naruto had been working on repairs earlier. His fingers trace over the scratch, following a thin line already beginning to pale, nearly fully healed. From Naruto's palm, his hand moves towards the rib-knit cuff of Naruto's jacket sleeve, carefully pushing back the lightweight material to lie bunched above Naruto's elbow.

He stares at Naruto's arm, slowly placing his hand over unblemished skin, where the dunemite's stinger had left a gaping wound, still unable to rid himself of the image of Naruto clutching his arm, still able to hear the terror in Naruto's agonised screams, because he'd actually felt Naruto _dying_. Despite Naruto's own ability to heal, the venom had spread too fast. He'd already lost too much blood, but Sasuke had kept him alive. He kept Naruto safe, used his magic to allay Naruto's pain. Even after the screaming stopped and Naruto fell unconscious, until the venom was completely gone, he continued to use his magic until he was sure Naruto would be okay.

It'd taken a lot out of him, more than he's willing to acknowledge, never mind openly admit to Naruto, just how much of his life force he'd given in order to save him, because then he'd have to acknowledge just how close he came to losing him.

There's nothing wrong with Naruto's arm anymore. Naruto already told him his arm wasn't giving him any problems, completely healed, as if that encounter with the dunemite never happened, but if he hadn't been able to reach Naruto in time, if he hadn't been able to—

"What're you doing?"

His body goes tense at the sharp tone of Naruto's voice. He glances down at Naruto's fingers wrapped tight around his wrist, eyes travelling to the back of Naruto's left hand, to his arm. Looking up to meet Naruto's eyes, his breath catches still.

Naruto doesn't seem to know what to say, either, but he tries for an assuring smile, tries too hard to brush off his own obvious concern behind the implications of what Sasuke had almost done. "If you keep doing that creepy thing with your eyes, you're going to make me tell Itachi on you. And then he'd probably make you start wearing your old gloves again."

The attempt at a joke falls flat. As Naruto releases his wrist, carefully, Sasuke lowers Naruto's arm.

With a grunt, Naruto pushes up from the ground, uncrossing his legs and making his way closer to the wall, sitting on Sasuke's right. He invites himself beneath the small mound of blankets without permission, mindful of Juugo's quilt, huddling closer, legs outstretched, shoulder to shoulder.

He doesn't shy away for Naruto's sake, is what he tells himself, because he doesn't want to believe Naruto made the move intentionally to put his right arm out of sight.

"I told you I'm okay, so stop worrying about it already. We got this. You and me, whatever happens from now on, we can handle it."

He realises that Naruto's fine. In his mind, he can rationalise that it's because of his life magic that Naruto hadn't died, yet in this one instance, held under the sway of an innate compulsion in a situation where his life magic shouldn't even apply, what he'd initially thought a onetime incident healing the bruising around Juugo's neck, it's not so much of an accident if it's twice within two days he used his life magic without meaning to.

More so than any type of elemental magic, his life magic has always demanded the least of him, has so many times nearly consumed him, left him so many times feeling helpless, yet pushed him even harder to overcome an ability to heal that didn't always come to him at will. In such a short span of time, to see years' worth of effort begin to fall apart, fraying at the seams, the control he worked so hard towards suddenly such an insignificant thing, he thought he finally grew past this.

"Since we're going to be holed up in here, anyway, you should go ahead and get some sleep." Naruto rests his palm over Sasuke's knee. "I'll wake you up when it's your turn."

His gaze wanders from Naruto's unyielding stare, to his sword tilted against the wall, blade fully retracted, hilt still specked with blood from the dunemite he'd killed. "Can't."

"Try," Naruto counters. "If you thought I looked like shit after one night here, it's still nothing compared to you looking like passing out's just going to be a matter of time. And I'm not hauling your disagreeable ass across a desert."

He pauses, brow creased in thought, fingers chasing abstract silhouettes into the side of Sasuke's leg. His features ease with a wry snort, as he pulls his hand away. "Drag you by the arm maybe, but that's as far as I'll go."

It's funny sometimes, how Naruto likes to pretend his uncanny ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat is normal. Or how firm he is in the belief that being able to sleep like the dead yet being able to wake up alert at almost any noise is part of a practical skill set everyone should have. But Naruto's able to stay awake a lot longer, too. He's been able to do a lot more things since that training mission he won't talk about.

Something else entirely he doesn't want to dwell on, so he settles instead into the unobtrusive warmth at his side. He tries to relax against Naruto, tries to bury a still rising apprehension, falls into the comfortable lull of his magic, allowing it to distract him.

He takes his time, raises his arm between them, watching as his magic gathers his hand. Pulled from the air around him, the beginnings of a tiny mass take shape above his palm, seemingly bound by streaks of shadows folded within a vivid light effacing the fire's warm glow.

It's one of the earliest tricks he learned to do with his magic. At its core, it's a pretty simple technique, part meditation exercise, part childhood diversion. It's an outlet for his magic that helped to him better his overall concentration, good for both mental acuity and magical ability, although it hadn't been his goal to do so at the time.

Far less profound, it came out of a desire to emulate the techniques he'd seen Itachi and Naruto practice, techniques he didn't have the ability to do—when he began trying to teach himself elemental magic on his own, before anyone else knew he was capable of more than just life magic.

"Itachi's right." Naruto's gaze is drawn to the small mass gradually increasing in size, mounting inside spinning winds tempered into the shape of a sphere no larger than Sasuke's palm. "You really do use your magic too freely," is his soft murmur, but he doesn't look away, almost rapt, because being able to manipulate two elements at once, even for a life user, it really isn't supposed to be possible.

Far from the first time anyone's accused him of being too flippant with his magic, it's been a point of contention with Itachi often enough, being told many times he takes his apparent ease with magic for granted, but it isn't really something he can help.

He didn't think much of it when he was younger, understands less and less as he grows older, because he doesn't know how to explain it as anything other than an intrinsic part of him. It's simply there. To him, using magic is tantamount to breathing, exists beneath his skin a ceaseless state of consciousness, an ever-present hum soothing in its regularity.

The way his magic works, it's already a difficult concept for him to grasp on his own, and that much more difficult to convey to other people, even other magic users.

Essentially, a magic user is someone who has the ability to manipulate one of the seven established transformation elements: fire, wind, lightning, earth, water, metal, and shadow. However, magic can only affect elements that already exist. It can't create them. The extent an element can be manipulated is determined by both a magic user's immediate surroundings and their magical ability, the latter limited by inherent potential and acquired mental acuity.

Regardless of any inherent talent, it takes rigorous training to achieve the level of mental acuity required to perform what's considered the truly impressive feats of magic, and only if the potential already exists. Not every earth elemental can shatter the ground beneath them. Not every lightning elemental is able to gather and sustain a high concentration of lightning in their hand. Even for Itachi, learning how to hone his ability to manipulate shadows didn't come easily.

Yet as a life user, the core of Sasuke's training has always centred on building his endurance while using magic, because his magic already comes to him without having to think about it; once he's seen a technique, it's more or less a matter of simply willing his magic to mimic what he's seen.

Unlike a conventional magic user, though, a life user's magic predominantly lies within the ability to manipulate life force, the natural energy in every living organism. While there's little scientific basis, the universal belief is that, in lieu of using magical energy, this manipulation of life energy enables a life user to impart their own life force onto another living being, in order to mend any "sequence gaps" caused by injury or disease disrupting the flow of natural energy.

Which he can say is true, in most respects, if not overly simplified. Calling them sequence gaps, as the generally accepted term, implies natural energy exists consistently within a linear vacuum, as a collective stream of energy flowing towards the same direction. Instead, within any living organism, their life force is always contracting and expanding, in constant motion, flowing in different directions. Even the smallest harm to the body can create the tiniest tears disrupting the flows of natural energy, what he visualises as provisional dead space, until the body is able to replenish its life force over time.

Depending on the severity, the longer it takes the body to heal, the less likely it will be able to replace the natural energy lost, the same energy that contributes to normal biological functions. Small tears can swell in size to become massive holes, drifting with the various flows of natural energy, sometimes breaking off, like an infection, continuously deteriorating the energy around them, generating more and more provisional dead space until the body is no longer alive.

Using life magic can stall the process, filling in whatever tears in natural energy and allowing the body to heal much more quickly, even faster than Naruto's ability to heal. Yet it can also be incredibly draining. And if he overexerts himself, giving too much of his life force is dangerous enough to kill him, almost did a few times, because being a kid with that kind of magic, subconsciously compelled by an instinctive urge to heal, it took a lot of trial and error before his parents trusted him to no longer need protection from any accidental touch.

Not that there's much of any recorded history dealing with life magic, or that he knows another life user to compare himself to, but the healing aspect is one of the few consistencies he actually found among life users; supposedly, it explains having higher levels of empathy, although correlation doesn't necessarily imply causation, since none of it explains why he can even Influence people at all.

What isn't common knowledge, however, is that his life magic is much more than its healing aspect. It encompasses all forms of magic. It allows him not only the magical ability to manipulate elements already within existence, but to recreate them using his own life energy.

He realises it's a lot of power. But that's all magic really is. At the very root of it all, that's what it comes down to, one of the longstanding causes underlying the continued dissent between the Alliance and the Federation. Magic is simply another form of power. What some have and what others don't. A different form of power not everyone happens to agree with.

And while he can rationalise in his mind the immense significance in merely knowing that kind of power exists, while he understands the concern surrounding the ease in which he's able to use that power, on the other hand, that's just the way his magic is.

Naruto starts to shift beside him, reaching into the side pocket of his pants for a small, square packet already torn open near the top, seemingly nondescript, save for its shiny red foil. He empties the packet in his palm, shuddering at the sight of the white, oblong pill that falls out.

"Ugh. Can't stand having to take NPs." He shudders again, making an unpleasant face, shaking his head before popping the pill in his mouth and swallowing it dry. "Give me REMs any day."

Sasuke snorts, relaxing further against him, as comfortable as he'll probably get in a cave like this. His gaze trails back to the sphere in his hand, as the coils within begin to loosen, tighten again encircled by diffused bands fluctuating between parallel curves of shadow and light.

On its own, light magic isn't officially recognised as a transformation element. It's just as appropriate to lump it under the umbrella of shadow magic, because there isn't much difference between the two. They're inherently the same,something few people realise. One can't exist without the other, although through the years it's just become more commonplace to call it shadow magic. Mostly due to the fact it's the form of magic people seem to be the least comfortable with.

Although it's also the rarest form of magic next to life magic, as highly regarded as it is within his own family, within the magic user community at large it still has its share of negative connotations, usually with an emphasis placed on the ambiguous nature of shadow techniques.

Outside the magic user community, there's a noted history of accusations towards shadow users, more so than other magic users, dubbing them soulless, unable to be trusted—an attitude that endured even after the attempted mass genocide during the Second Great War. It's no longer part of mainstream views, not within recent centuries, but the base sentiment hasn't completely gone away.

In principle, to use shadow magic is to manipulate the appearance of light, which, depending on who's asked, isn't too dissimilar from distorting reality, because like with any kind of power, there are shadow users who've misused their magic. Unfortunately, for too many people, even given the mere impression of having to question what they perceive as reality is sufficient provocation to condemn shadow magic altogether.

He's never thought of shadow magic that way, grew up believing it to be the special magic only Itachi could do, something he wanted to be able to do, too. And during his early attempts to emulate his brother, the absence of shadow became light. Shadow magic is light magic. That's how he's always understood it to be.

The idea for the sphere itself, however, came from his early attempts to emulate Naruto.

It's an inspired copy of one of Minato's more advanced techniques, the use of wind magic to create a rotating ball of air constantly in motion. Minato also used it as the basis for an exercise he designed specifically with Naruto in mind, in order to help Naruto refine his control; while Naruto's confident in his magical ability now, it wasn't the easiest for him to cope with the sheer breadth of his power at a young age.

As early as eight, he had a regular habit of unleashing too much at once, sporadic bursts of magic laying destruction to nearly everything within a sizeable area. He definitely had the stamina to keep up with it, even if he had issues keeping it fully contained. But there were also times when he wouldn't be able to use his magic, despite the fact that wind magic applied to an element as pervasive as air.

However, its accessibility makes wind magic as volatile as fire magic and arguably the hardest form of magic to control. It takes a certain sophistication, involves the strenuous kind of discipline that, by outward impression alone, many people tend to assume someone like Naruto isn't capable of. And yet at seventeen, Naruto's already achieved a level of mastery magic users with twice his experience are nowhere near.

Although at eight, Sasuke would watch a nine year old Naruto determined to master his dad's technique, determined not to give up trying to manipulate the air inside a thick-walled balloon filled with water and roughly the size of his fist.

So he decided to try it, too. As he watched Naruto's progression, not wanting to be left behind, he'd practice on his own, spend hours trying to emulate the techniques he'd seen both Naruto and Itachi do. And then one day he'd taken Naruto to their hiding spot, proved for the first time he had elemental magic, too, proudly showed him the sphere of shadow and wind, although he made Naruto promise to keep it a secret until he was ready to tell.

It was so small then, this tiny little ball that paled in comparison to what Naruto could already do, but it was still his. It was still something he was able to call his own, because for the longest time, ironically, it didn't seem as if he would have magic.

Magic users typically present by the time they're five, no later than six, or, in Itachi's case, as early as three. Sasuke's magic hadn't begun to manifest until eight, nearly a year after his empathy developed. No one in his family expected him to be a prodigy like Itachi or Shisui, much less share Itachi's exceedingly rare shadow magic, but there was an expectation that he'd at least have an affinity for the fire magic that's run in their line for generations.

There were no whispers deeming him a disappointment. There was no silent condemnation for not having any magical ability. In fact, there were only words to placate him, assurances that any form of magic was extremely rare to have. However, being born into one of the most prominent families of magic users, being constantly surrounded by people who could use magic, more than just his brother and their parents, people like Naruto and other kids his age, he'd placed upon himself the expectation to uphold that tradition.

By the time he was seven, Sasuke could only resolve that he hadn't fulfilled it. At seven, however, it was also the year his empathy appeared and he had his first episodic attack.

As a whole, the study of magic as a true science didn't emerge until about three centuries ago, with the advent of the Suzuki scale, the first academic attempt on record to gauge how and why magic works, as well as proposing a common association between magic and what Suzuki would then term his definition of empathy among magic users, the means through which someone expresses a certain level of sensitivity to emotions; Suzuki was also one of the early advocates who believed magical ability to be heredity, although as an arbitrary genetic anomaly passed within families, as opposed being a gene that follows typical inheritance behaviour patterns.

Because no known, reliable biological indicators exist to measure a person's magical ability, or lack thereof, Suzuki invented a complex, yet surprisingly comprehensive system of methodologies to help assess a potential magic user during the early stages of childhood, based on the premise that empathy develops before magical ability and continues to develop after magic begins to manifest, albeit it at a much slower pace. Ultimately, the higher the initial empathetic ability is on the scale, the stronger the potential for magical ability.

There hasn't been much progress in the field since then, or at least nothing that's provoked as much academic discourse as Suzuki's research. With the more recent publications Sasuke's read through, magic theory is barely mentioned in passing, if that, even referred to as bedlam theory, for all the confusion that comes alongside trying to study magic within a scientific context.

However, Suzuki's proposed relationship between magic with empathy has become a widely accepted theory, going so far as to imply that magical ability and empathetic ability are mutually inclusive: All magic users have the capacity for empathy, placed between one and twelve on the Suzuki scale, although most people registered into the system place between two and five.

Among the registered magic users in his family, the chances of having strong levels of empathy tend to run on the higher side of average, usually between four and seven. Itachi surpassed even that as an E9. Naruto, being the exception he usually is, placed as an E10.

Sasuke hadn't shown any of the usual signs of a magic user, but his parents still made an appointment for an initial assessment at four. He was given another assessment at five, then again at six. By his fourth appointment, it was decided he didn't have the capacity for empathy and wouldn't develop any magical ability.

Of course, he'd later prove this wrong, but the issue seemed to lie within the way his empathy works, further thrown off by his apparent lack of magical ability at the time, because even then his empathy was abnormally high, placing well beyond the scope of the Suzuki scale; normally, empathy functions as a passive sense, but his empathy seems to take on a more active role.

All it took was a simple touch from Naruto to set it off.

Although they weren't necessarily friends, he did know Naruto by then, due to the friendship between their moms and the fact their parents ran in the same political circles. Before they lived on base, they lived near the capital in Nagi, went to the same private school, and happened to share one overlapping class, even though magic users like Naruto had a slightly different curriculum.

He doesn't recall any specific details, just remembers being in class, sitting at his desk, from behind Naruto trying to get his attention, a hand reaching out to tap him on the shoulder, and then everything just _hurt_.

He remembers falling out of his chair, being curled up on the floor, holding his head, screaming himself hoarse. Too many people too close. From everyone crowded around him, a cacophony of noise, all the crying and all the shouting, then the even louder voices he couldn't recognise. He didn't know whether he was dying or going insane. He didn't know the pain was being caused by the brunt of everyone else's emotions, his mind being torn every which way, overwhelmed by foreign sensations that all together still somehow felt like his own.

The only thing he knew was that being touched made it worse.

Eventually, he was admitted to the hospital, had to be carefully sedated, constantly monitored thorough periodic episodes. Even vaguely aware of his surroundings, if anyone came too close it would trigger another adverse reaction. For three days, it was an onslaught of unwanted sensation, exhausting attempts to fend off wandering hands. No one could pinpoint anything physically wrong with him. Since he'd failed to show any sign of magical ability yet, there was no reason for anyone to suspect his attacks were related to his empathetic ability.

Near the end of the third day came Itachi. All at once his brother's presence became a soothing balm, enveloped him in a comforting silence as he reached out for the first person it didn't hurt to touch. For hours at a time he spent latched on to his brother, wrapped around him, and because he didn't know how else to tell Itachi what was wrong, the only thing he could do was refuse to let his brother go.

It became a little more bearable then, having Itachi there. Other than his brother, though, he still wasn't able to bear having anyone else too close, not even his mom and dad, yet his acute attachment to Itachi led his then pediatrician to refer his parents to a specialist in childhood empathy development, Iyashi, one of the best in his profession.

The circumstances were highly unusual, but, with an interim diagnosis of emotional trauma, he would spend the next eleven weeks in the hospital, quarantined in a special ward far enough away from other patients.

Like Itachi, Iyashi became someone he deemed safe. After establishing the extent of his empathetic ability, how susceptible to emotions he truly was, Iyashi helped him learn to filter out emotions that weren't his own. Sessions with Iyashi were spent on strengthening both his emotional barriers and mental acuity, allowing him to catch up with magic users at his age, with exercises adapted to work without the magic component involved in the Suzuki method.

It took time to readjust being around people again, nearly a year for his fear of any unfamiliar touch to completely subside, wary of anyone he couldn't deem safe getting too close. The process was gradual for his parents, too, and it was startling, the simple sensation of just being able to hug his mom and dad again, but it was by complete accident Naruto became part of the initially small circle of people he thought of as safe.

The first time Naruto came to visit, he somehow managed to sneak into the ward. He'd made up his mind to skip school that day, while Sasuke was asleep, waiting impatiently in a seat too large for his body, legs dangling over the edge of the chair pushed closer to Sasuke's bed.

When he woke up, Sasuke couldn't hold back from a flinch at the sight of Naruto, quick to sit up, putting distance between them, although it didn't stop Naruto from approaching him with a timid smile, offering to let Sasuke play with the model ship he brought, and asking if Sasuke ever received the get well card he made.

Yet before Sasuke could come up with anything to say, his attention was redirected to the call of Naruto's name, a long-suffering cry that prompted Naruto to hop down from the chair and dash across the room. From over his shoulder, Naruto grinned, promising he'd come back again to visit soon to show Sasuke how to play with the ship.

The nurse who'd been searching for Naruto earlier, Mitate, one of the designated nurses allowed in the ward, was just in time to enter Sasuke's room. Naruto made a run for the open door, determined to escape Mitate's wrath, steps quickened into a sprint, before lowering himself into a slide through Mitate's legs, scrambling up off the floor, and dashing away down the hall.

Or, that's what Naruto would later say he thought was supposed to happen, if Mitate hadn't taken hold of his arm first, hoisting him off the floor, apologising profusely to Sasuke, and then preceding to lead away a wildly protesting Naruto trying to proclaim his innocence—the scene over as soon as it began, leaving Sasuke behind wide-eyed and confused, gaze wandering between the open door and the model ship Naruto had given him still in his hand.

In some ways, that first empathetic attack had been the catalyst to their friendship. It other ways, it would begin a series of events that make him feel now as if they're somehow drifting apart.

He knows Naruto's not completely over it. Driven by the same misguided sense of guilt that wouldn't allow Sasuke to return Naruto's favourite model ship, even when he was eight that adamant to make amends for something that wasn't even his fault, the way Naruto used to look at him sometimes, those passing moments of uncertainty so painfully clear in blue eyes, because Naruto's always been too much the kind of needlessly self-sacrificing guy who thinks it's his responsibility to carry the weight of Sasuke's burdens on his shoulders.

He never blamed Naruto, never saw a reason to. Naruto was just as much a victim of unfortunate coincidence. If not Naruto, it would've been someone else. He just won't allow himself to accept that.

Then again, Naruto's not the only one unwilling to accept a lot of things.

The sphere of wind and light hovers over the back of Sasuke's hand, moving from one finger to the next as it begins to grow larger and smaller once more. He turns his hand over and catches the sphere in his palm, fingers curled through it, before opening his hand again, allowing the air to release slowly, the command to dispel without a second thought, its shape gradually fading alongside the absence of light.

Lowering his arm, he raises his head, met with Naruto's discerning gaze.

"Sasuke, I…" Naruto breathes in with a heavy sigh. "I didn't plan on bringing this up just yet, but what's been going on between you and Itachi, when it gets like this, it's awkward for me, too, you know. I mean, it seems like I've known you two since forever, so it's hard being put in the middle.

"Itachi might not be my brother, but that doesn't mean we aren't close. That doesn't mean I can't care about him, what you said to Itachi yesterday, that was mean, Sasuke. It wasn't right. To throw something like that in his face, something he had no control over, it wasn't right, and you know it.

"You never should've said something like that in the first place, so whatever brought it on, I think you need to suck it up and apologise."

The small fire begins to die, the light in the cave retreating into a dim glow.

"Yeah, Itachi isn't the most open guy out there, butyou know how much he cares about you. All the crap he has to put up with in his position, you can't expect him to be perfect all the time. He messes up just like the rest of us, but everything he does is because of you. _Everything_, Sasuke. Even with all those outdated laws telling you what you can't do, he always tries to find a way to make things the best he can for you.

"And if you still haven't figured that out by now, well…"

Sasuke lifts his hand, palm laid open below his chin. He parts his lips and blows softly towards the fire, spurs the flames a little higher, watches the excited flickers paint alternating streaks of light against the walls, revealing intermittent glimpses of the pictographs dancing on the uneven surface, highlighting the shadows playing over the lower half of Naruto's jaw.

"It takes a lot to get to a guy like Itachi, but you hurt him bad, Sasuke. You really did." Naruto's voice turns brisk, almost dismissive with a short scoff, yet his entire demeanour remains annoyingly calm. "Actually, I'm really kind of mad at you for that." He glances at the fire, takes up again that discerning gaze this time matched with an unpleasant quirk to his lips.

Weird how it's harder not to listen to what Naruto's saying when he isn't being loud.

"You're the only person who can hurt him like that. You're the only person who will always get to him that way. The only reason he was even mad at you is because he was worried something could've happened to you and he wouldn't have been able to stop it."

He's willing to acknowledge Naruto isn't wrong. As aggravating as Itachi's attitude towards him can be at times, he knows how much his brother cares about him. Never once was he given reason to doubt the bond between them. After that initial confrontation, though, since openly challenging Itachi's authority, he's been readily avoiding the issue, still unsure where he stands.

If only for briefest moment, he'd felt it, the tiniest fracture in Itachi's composure, beneath the fearful relief a poignant disappointment too late he'd realise hadn't been directed toward him. And yet in that very same moment, his brother had become a distant presence, the Itachi before him detached from the comfortable silence he's never had around anyone else. It'd been unsettling, the sight of his own diminishing reflection staring into the darkness of his brother's eyes.

Out of all their disagreements, this time feels different from the rest, leaves him anxious for a next time that's yet to come, not for any reason he's prepared to think about.

Itachi's been stationed off world before, in situations more dangerous than this. On missions he'd disappear for weeks at a time when Sasuke was too young to comprehend why, too young to worry about anything other than each time looking forward to the day he'd be able to greet his brother home.

He's old enough to understand now, old enough to acknowledge that Naruto isn't wrong. Itachi was never as infallible as he once used to seem, and as the reality of the situation catches up to him, the source of a nameless trepidation, it's this he doesn't want to admit.

"It's not that I don't like Juugo. Don't get me wrong. He really does seem nice so far. A guy like that definitely doesn't deserve all the crap he's been through. But there's no way you could've known that. Even if your empathy—"

"It doesn't work like that," Sasuke bites out, because it's always such a convenient excuse to invalidate anything he does or doesn't do by blaming it on his empathy.

"Honestly, I'm not saying you're the only one who's done dumb shit, okay. I know I've done some pretty stupid shit, too. But it's on a totally different level in a situation like this. Letting your guard down around someone you don't even know, when you're by yourself, someone like you—"

"Someone like—"

"Someone like you, Sasuke. Someone who—"

Naruto picks at the thick material of the light blue blanket, smoothing it over his lap, legs fully covered, only the toes of his black boots peeking from underneath. "Look, I…" He draws in a short breath, letting out air in a soft huff. "I know I give you a lot of shit for being a civilian, but I'm not sorry for it. I'm not going to apologise for calling you what you are—except this isn't just about you not being trained for this sort of thing."

While it isn't just about his lack of military training, being denied the opportunity to even enlist plays a significant part in it. Unofficially, his preliminary entrance scores were more than good enough to get in; taken anonymously, they were impressive enough to attract the attention of someone like Hatake Kakashi. Officially, solely on the basis of being a life user, it meant nothing.

By law, life users aren't allowed to attend any of the military academies serving the Allied Armed Forces, regardless of sector or branch. With how few people it actually affects, it's the kind of petty law that'd be pointless to openly protest. To do so would essentially be the same as putting his own wellbeing above the continued welfare of the Alliance.

As it stands, the law's imposed as part of a bill entitling magic user rights, formed alongside other dated laws like Registration, which serves as a blanket sanction that requires all magic users to register their elemental type, alongside their current magical and empathetic ability with the Alliance, in order to be fully recognised as protected citizens; supposedly, it's for their own good, to protect the minority from the sometimes more radical majority, because while these sort of laws don't denounce magic users, or truly prevent them from participating as citizens of the Alliance, if any kind of discrimination were to take place, committed by members of the Federation or the Alliance, unregistered magic users aren't guaranteed the same natural protections as non-magic users.

Reforming magic user rights isn't even an option. Despite the rational irrationally of politics, no sane member on the Council would think to even attempt proposing that kind of monumental change, much less to a system that, for the most part, many people don't perceive as broken, largely due to the fact the bill was a major incentive in the Neet-Feld treaty that keeps the Alliance and the Federation from launching into another war.

"Maybe things might've been different," Naruto tries to placate. "Maybe it wouldn't be the same if you could've signed up for the Academy, too. But the way things are now, you being who you are, that's why I'm supposed to look out for you. I'm supposed to put you first. I have to."

Lips pursed, Sasuke turns his gaze to fire beginning to wane, turns from the soft gleam in blue eyes that won't look away. He tugs on his sleeve, absently pulling it over his arm, holding the cuff between his fingers and his palm. There's no reason to argue with Naruto over a moot point.

Hearing Naruto say it doesn't make the sentiment any less discouraging from all the other times he's heard it, the same tired platitude over and over again. At least he can be grateful his parents are well past the phase where they felt the need to keep him under proverbial lock and key, but he's spent the last five years striving to prove he's worth more than just his magic, fought to overcome his own limitations to prove that he's not weak, that he doesn't deserve to be accused of being a exploitable risk that could be used to undermine the integrity of the Alliance.

Having life magic shouldn't be such a serious issue. Yet no matter what he does, he's either treated as a political liability, or seen as someone who can't fend for himself, someone who needs to be saved from himself, but he didn't ask Naruto to protect him. He's never wanted that from him.

"...you really don't get it, do you?" Naruto watches him strangely, not quite bemused, blue eyes earnest with an expression Sasuke can't entirely place. "The things you can do with your magic, Sasuke—those aren't normal things you see every day. And it messes with people. Either they want to use you for what you have, or don't want you to have it because they don't.

"The things everyone else can't do, that makes you different. That makes you stand out. And sometimes, that makes you a threat. Next to you, I'm just Namikaze Minato's son. I mean, I don't like it, either, but that's what it is, you know. Even if it ever did get out about Kyuubi, it wouldn't take much for people to find a way to make it come back to you.

"And not just people like Orochimaru. Hell, people like him, they're easy to keep tabs on. That guy definitely isn't shy about wanting to get his hands on you. It's the people you don't know that you really have to look out for. It's the stuff coming from the people you can't see that makes it harder to keep you safe. And to hear the way some of them talk about you, like you're not even your own person, like you're just some…"

He hears enough to know some things. Even around base, he's been the subject of whatever gossip's been going around. It's not bad, nothing worse than idle speculation about his life magic. The people who have approached him did so out of curiosity. Off base, when he goes to Ise, a lot of people tend to keep their distance, whether due to rumours of grossly exaggerated repercussions, or simply not understanding what they haven't been exposed to. Personally, he doesn't think too many people are bothered to care, although intent doesn't matter all that much when it seems as if his entire existence is reduced to his magical ability.

It's nothing new, though. He's had enough time to get used to it, enough to learn it's a waste of time to stay upset over something he can't do anything about.

_They're just words_, he remembers trying to assure Itachi, remembers trying to replace the increasingly more common resignation on his brother's face with the gentle expression that once upon a time didn't seem so far from memory, but the weary smile he received instead, that didn't suit his brother, either.

_No, Sasuke. Even the simplest of words can substantiate the most single-minded ambition. It's within these simple words that our perceptions of truth are laid bare to a myriad of possibilities._

"…I can't change what people think about me, Naruto. I can't control what people say."

"I know you can't." Naruto bows his head, with a soft hum that belies the stiff set to his shoulders, restraining an agitation that turns rigid the corner of his mouth.

There are things Naruto isn't allowed to tell him, things he understands Naruto is obligated not to say, but for every omission Naruto makes, he still wonders sometimes, how much of what Naruto keeps to himself is because he's willingly chosen not to let him know.

"But that doesn't make it okay."


	4. IV I'm a Scary Gargoyle on a Tower

_Before the peace summit, Naruto just wants to enjoy surviving his first year at the Academy. But as much as he's been looking forward to coming home, there's still a lot of things about himself he still has to face, a lot of stuff out there he isn't sure he's ready to know. Starting with this Orochimaru guy._

...

**IV. I'm a Scary Gargoyle on a Tower**

After spending almost a year in the dorms, it still feels a little weird being back home at the Capital, being back in his own room. It's a lot quieter here, too. None of the rush of activity Naruto's gotten used to, a seemingly near constant stream of movement from other cadets going up and down the halls, especially right before curfew, before the inevitable call of lights out, the backdrop of hurried steps against a flurry of voices overlapped through random bursts of conversations.

It's not much different from when he last saw it. Maybe it feels a little smaller than he remembers, but his parents left his room untouched for the most part, save for the few things he sent ahead, neatly stacked in the corner, right below the hanging display case for his model ships that his dad helped him put together.

As weird as it is, it's nice, too, reassuring even, knowing that at least some things don't have to change, unlike everything else around him.

At least he could say he survived his first year at the Academy. And not just by doing what was required to pass, either. Grades still aren't finalised yet, but his performance was impressive enough that he received more than a few recommendations from his instructors, officially recognising all the hard work he's put in, recognising early his potential of being a fighter pilot, just like his dad.

With all the things that are changing, around him changes happening too fast, it feels really good to be acknowledged, steadies him a little, to have something concrete to show for his efforts, especially since Sasuke legally isn't allowed take the entrance exam, can't even follow him in their shared dream of being at the Academy, of one day chasing the stars.

And yet despite that, all these things Sasuke could no longer look forward to, he's been supportive of Naruto throughout, unconditionally, those times when Naruto wasn't comfortable confiding in his parents, or even the other cadets he'd eventually see as more than friends, but still just wanted to talk, or needed someone to listen to, and he'd ask to hear about Sasuke's day, how Sasuke was doing with his magic.

Even for his own sake, Sasuke never expected Naruto to give up on what he loves doing, in not so many words actually said he'd hit him, if Naruto ever thought about pandering to him for that kind needlessly sentimental gesture, and having Sasuke on his side, Naruto can't say that hasn't inspired him to push himself even harder, to prove that everything that's happened in the past year truly has been worth it.

Last night, when he came back home, the first thing he wanted to do, what he'd been thinking about as he got closer and closer toward the long break, was to temporarily retrain his body how to sleep in past six again; morning PT was _brutal_, had just about killed him in the beginning, because the daily training regimen is that harsh, intentionally meant to weed out the people who wouldn't be able to cut it in that kind of stressful environment.

Of course, his desire to sleep the day away wasn't happening, didn't happen, no matter how many times he closed his eyes, because as soon as he opened them, he found he _couldn't_ go back to sleep.

Even a quick nap would've helped, rack out until at least maybe eight or so, but all he could think of, was being able to see Sasuke again, kept himself awake, restless, wondering if Sasuke would be excited about seeing him again, too.

It wasn't like they fell out of touch while Naruto was away; despite not being able to talk as much, and although Naruto would mostly stay behind on campus during the handful of short, permitted leaves, even stop by Itachi and Sasuke's place, since he'd still be on base, for the exodus during the holidays, he'd come back to the Capital for those one or two extended weeks, and he'd made sure to make time for Sasuke.

This time around it's different. For cadets continuing on, they're given a much longer leave, because the Academy is essentially still high school, just with a much more rigorous physical and military-centred curriculum, so this time he gets to be around Sasuke, without having to worry about the shorter break period.

It was too late for him to see Sasuke yesterday, but he already knew Sasuke was going to be coming over today, after his appointment with Iyashi, because his mom and dad had invited Sasuke and his parents over for lunch, so now it's just a matter of waiting.

He's already gone out for a run, had enough time to shower and eat breakfast with his parents, finishing up by ten. Lunch still won't be until around noon, so he tries to pass the rest of the time lounging in the sitting area downstairs, close to the door, not really paying attention to movie he flipped to, something or another about the fallout of a hostile takeover, with plenty of action scenes and explosions he catches when he occasionally glances up.

Instead, he stays busy on his phone. In between periodically checking for the grades he knows his instructors still haven't sent through, he opens up an existing group chat, goes back and forth messaging Kiba, Shikamaru, and a few other trainees he's gotten to know pretty well—they don't really talk about anything special, just reminisce about this and that, how it feels trying to settle back into what life was like before the Academy, and it calms his nerves to know he's not the only one thrown off by all the sudden free time, still trying to figure out what to do with himself.

He jumps when the doorbell rings, already on his feet, quickly stuffing his phone into his pocket, before rushing to the answer the door.

"I got it!" he yells, all but running down the main hall, steps hurried with anticipation, sock-clad feet sliding across the smooth floor; while their house isn't a mansion, it's not exactly small, either, so it still takes a bit of a walk to reach the entryway.

When he gets there, he unlocks the electronic deadbolt, ignoring the external video feed showing who's on the other side, as he releases the small, hidden physical latch from the side panel, completely bypassing the security system, and letting door slide wide open.

Vaguely, he registers the sight of Mikoto and Fugaku, thinks he might've given them some kind of casual greeting, but all he sees in the person standing in front of them. All he sees is Sasuke.

Aside from the occasional video call, it's been a few weeks since he's last seen him, and already it feels like so much about Sasuke has changed.

His hair seems longer, not sticking up as much anymore, with the front falling a lot closer to his face. He's gotten a little taller, too, although still not as tall as him, his eyes only coming up to reach a little higher than Naruto's nose—something Naruto definitely isn't above lording over him, since the fact that he's older, that's never really meant anything to Sasuke.

The jacket Naruto doesn't recognise, so that's new, a dark bluish grey, styled with a high collar that covers the entirety of Sasuke's neck. But the dark gloves aren't unexpected, the same kind Sasuke's been wearing since seemingly forever. The material doesn't feel all that different when Naruto takes Sasuke's hand, takes a step closer as he links their fingers, and gives a soft squeeze.

"...hi."

Although Sasuke's a little stiff, he still manages a small, tired smile, even leaning into him a little, holding Naruto's hand, taking a moment or two to breathe. "...hi."

"Are you—"

Their reunion's interrupted when Naruto's cut off by the loud call of his name, having almost forgotten Sasuke didn't come over alone, that Mikoto and Fugaku came with him, too, until he winces at the sound of mom's voice behind him (is that what he really sounds like?), with a teasing smile, asking why he's just standing there in the middle of the doorway, preventing anyone from coming in.

Naruto blushes a bit, embarrassed he'd been so caught up in the moment, being able to see Sasuke again, but Mikoto and Fugaku are nice enough to brush it off, tell him he's okay, as his mom ushers them all inside.

He releases Sasuke's hand, though, fingers slow to let go, as he moves out the way, watching his mom lean down to cup Sasuke's cheek; she gives her own soft murmur of _hey, Sasuke _(much softer than the call of Naruto's name), paired with a warm smile that seems to help ease some of the tension he's carrying.

From the corner of his eye, Naruto catches a glimpse of his dad, feels a firm squeeze to his shoulder, as his dad moves to join his mom in welcoming Sasuke, Mikoto, and Fugaku inside.

Their parents engage in the usual small talk, mostly about the kind of political stuff he isn't particularly interested in, what's more or less background noise. He's more interested in catching up with Sasuke, teetering between excitement and honest to goodness nerves, hand fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt, nearly bouncing on his heels like a kid, waiting for Sasuke to take off his shoes.

"...are you tired?" he decides to say, what he started to ask earlier.

It wouldn't be the first time Sasuke's gotten like this. Ever since what happened at Yuna, Iyashi's been a lot more intense, pushing Sasuke further, trying to help him strengthen his shields and build on his emotional stamina.

It's not to the point of making him more susceptible to his magic or his empathy, but those kinds of sessions can leave Sasuke pretty drained. Iyashi doesn't schedule them that often, though, making sure Sasuke has enough time to rest in between, so it's never actually been a problem.

The only thing to watch out for, is whether Sasuke shows any signs of going into emotional withdrawal. Otherwise, Iyashi says the fatigue is to be expected, and will eventually pass as long as Sasuke continues to improve on his stamina.

Still, if he really is this tired, he didn't have to come over so soon, no matter how much Naruto was looking forward to seeing him again.

"It's okay," Sasuke says, looking down as he slides his feet into the light blue slippers he always uses whenever he comes over, the same pair Naruto's mom bought for him two years ago, and it's kind of funny to see he still fits them after so long. "I wanted to see you, too."

Knowing better to press, or at least not right now, Naruto leaves it at that.

By the time everyone's shuffled into the main hall, his dad's already making the announcement that lunch is almost ready, anyway.

Besides, he's actually kind of hungry, if the low growl from his stomach is anything to go by, prompting from him another small blush, as Sasuke just gives him this highly unnecessary look, eyebrow raised, the corner of his mouth on the verge of something suspiciously close to a smile.

"Yeah, so, I want to eat." Naruto tilts up his chin, sniffs, fingers careful when they wrap around Sasuke's wrist, before he tries to catch up to their parents, leading Sasuke down the hall. "Sue me."

It's not much longer before the food actually is ready, and they eventually end up in the smaller dining area, still bigger than his shared room at the dorms, but the one where Naruto normally eats with his parents, sitting at the large, round glass table that comfortably sits eight; the larger dining area's for much fancier affairs, almost uncomfortably formal, the one his parents use to entertain the really important guests, like foreign dignitaries from other Alliance sectors, or people who just have a lot of influence in general, sometimes people trying to make close ties with government officials.

As the staff presents the food in front of them, Gulden makes a short introduction of the meal, nothing heavy, since it's summer, but still running on the theme of Naruto's favourites. Unfortunately, he can't stay, but he tells them to enjoy, says he'll be back in time to finishing preparing dinner and dessert.

Giving his thanks, Naruto unclasps his hands, eager to tuck into his braised pork belly.

The slop served at the Chow Hall, some days it really does taste more questionable than others, as used to it as he is, so he can't help it if he's salivating over the opportunity to eat real food—Sasuke gets to have whatever he wants at his and Itachi's place, which means he doesn't get talk whenever Naruto complains about the meals served at the Academy.

Kiba liked to tease him for being spoiled enough to actually grow up having a personal chef, but Gulden's more like a family friend, someone his mom and dad met during their days at the Academy, even shared a few duty tours together after officially enlisting.

It's not surprising he has a military background. Despite his passion for cooking, the guy's solid muscle, built like a _tank_, tall and broad, with the gruff sort of voice to match the ruggedness of his dark facial features. For those who don't know him, he can be a little intimidating at first sight, but, honestly, he's one of the nicest people Naruto knows, even a little shy at times, whenever someone compliments his food, despite all the praise he's received recognising his skills in the culinary field.

He remembers when he was real little, watching Gulden in the kitchen. The guy had a patience of a saint, would pick him and sit him on the counter, while Naruto watched, took the time to explain what he was doing, even though Naruto didn't retain much of anything, but Gulden would still let him share in the experience, even dubbed Naruto his very important little taste tester, letting Naruto sample a few things before meals.

Back when Sasuke was still stuck in the hospital, and Naruto used to visit him straight after school, Gulden would take extra care preparing Naruto's lunch box, packing extra foods Naruto could share with Sasuke, like the miniature green tea baumkuchen cakes he'd painstakingly make using that small crepe pan, one of the few desserts Sasuke actually liked, because it wasn't overly sweet, and had a really mild flavour.

Gulden doesn't come over as often anymore, not with Naruto staying at the dorms now. He likes to travel a lot these days, on what he calls a culinary quest, says he wants to explore wherever the winds take him, although he did come back to help celebrate Naruto finishing his first year at the Academy.

He was just as excited as everyone else around Naruto, just as proud, declaring he was going to make all of Naruto's favourite foods—never mind that he wouldn't even let Naruto come near the kitchen this morning, playfully scolding him for trying to ruin his own surprise.

Being treated, it's as good an excuse as any for Naruto to enjoy himself, and he does, closing his eyes at the first bite that melts in his mouth. It's the same as he remembers it, or maybe even better, although he didn't realise how much he'd been missing Gulden's cooking.

During the light-hearted conversation around him, in between answering the occasional question about his life at the Academy, he's practically inhaling his food, with his mom only getting on him twice for not slowing down to chew.

Normally, Sasuke would've made a comment about it, too, or would've at least given Naruto one of those funny looks, against Naruto's shameless grin, the really cute way Sasuke would've scrunched up his nose, except when Naruto looks over to his left, he only sees Sasuke looking down at his plate, slowly picking at his food.

Naruto frowns, already lowering his fork, on the tip of his tongue, the urge to ask Sasuke what's wrong, but then a prolonged vibration cuts through the other voices at the table.

It's coming from his dad, he realises, which is weird, since his dad usually just keeps the volume on his phone low, because each ringtone and notification sound is set for a distinct purpose; the same security features are embedded either way, so it's how he separates his personal communications from work, instead of carrying around a separate phone, going as far as having his ringtones and message alerts correspond to different levels of urgency—then again, Naruto already has all of them memorised.

Although his old man definitely has his share of uncool moments, rarely does his dad do things without some kind of purpose, so it must be pretty important, the real high-profile sort of work-related, because he doesn't even hesitate to pull out his phone, as a hush immediately falls over the entire table.

Whatever the message is, there's nothing on his dad's face that gives him away.

The reaction from the other adults, though, that's all Naruto needs to see.

It's one of the rare moments when he's seen his mom look this serious, her head turned towards his dad, silently watching him. "...Minato."

Mikoto and Fugaku are just as quiet, pensive, waiting for his dad to say something first.

His dad looks up from his phone, pressing the power button on the side, before putting it away. He looks to him first, though, and Naruto already knows what's coming, when dad offers a strained smile.

"Sorry, Naruto. Looks like we'll have to cut lunch short today."

"No, it's..." Even though Naruto knows it's not his dad's fault, there's still a familiar sense of disappointment, but that's nothing new. He's used to it by now.

"I get it," he says, shaking his head, because he's old enough to recognise the considerable demands of his dad's position, and he appreciates the fact that his dad still tries to make time for him.

Visibly relieved, his dad continues to smile through a sigh, a breath that comes heavy with the fall of his shoulders.

Sasuke's the only one who doesn't seem affected by the sudden change in mood. He still doesn't look up, even when their parents begin to stand, as his mom pushes away his hair, placing her hand over his forehead; he only gives a small nod, a soft hum in response to whatever she whispers near his ear.

Naruto reaches for his drink, returns his mom's apologetic smile, before bringing the rim of the glass to his mouth. He takes a small sip, decides to hold on to the glass a little longer, putting it back on the table nearly empty.

Their parents begin to leave, food left forgotten, and he watches them disappear into the main hall, probably heading for his mom's office.

With their parents being who they are, among the highest ranked officials throughout the entire Alliance, it's really not that uncommon for them to be suddenly called to deal with something or another, leaving him and Sasuke on their own, or telling them to go upstairs, which is why the time they do spend together always means that much more.

Whatever that message to his dad was, the way their parents had gone quiet, clearly, it was something they'd been waiting for, something they couldn't discuss around him or Sasuke. The way it seems everyone's been on edge since the Federation's original proposal for a peace summit, he figures it has to do with that, mostly because it's supposed to be happening next week.

For now, though, he takes his time working on the rest of his mixed rice, trying not to be too obvious with the occasional worried glance he sends Sasuke, because Sasuke still hasn't looked up from the food he's barely touched—not that he had much there to begin with.

The silence is a little awkward silence between them, broken into by the intermittent clank of his fork against the ceramic plate, although it feels more so on his part than Sasuke's, since Sasuke doesn't seem all that bothered by their parents having to go so suddenly, especially considering how obvious they were about it. As much as Sasuke likes to question things, that should've been more than enough to get his attention.

Yet for him to still be so subdued, even after the more intensive sessions with Iyashi, he usually isn't this distracted.

Naruto doesn't want to think it's that bad, not if Sasuke was allowed to come over. On the other hand, being around him actually does help Sasuke with that kind of emotional recovery, and since Itachi's gone off world again, it makes sense that Mikoto and Fugaku wouldn't make Sasuke stay home; for anything else, whether Sasuke wanted to go or not, if his parents didn't feel it was safe for him, they wouldn't have agreed to it, point blank.

That's just one of those things. With Sasuke's history, the fact that his default level of sensitivity is abnormally high, sometimes there really is no telling how to read the situation, and it's just better to be cautious.

But whatever is bothering Sasuke, confronting him directly isn't going to be the best approach.

Naruto puts down his fork, finishing what's left of his rice, savouring the last few pieces of seasoned carrots and mushrooms and burdock root, while beneath the table he bumps his knee against Sasuke's leg.

Finally, Sasuke raises his head, raising a small forkful of sautéed mixed greens to his mouth. "Hm?"

"After all this time," Naruto says, "you'd think you'd be happy to see me back in one piece, you know."

Slowly lowering his fork, Sasuke just chews his food, _slowly_, so very slowly.

Naruto snorts. "Is that all you're going to eat?"

Sasuke swallows, placing a hand over his mouth to cover a yawn. "I already ate earlier," he says, dropping his arm. "Not really hungry."

"Do you want to just..."

"...yeah."

Normally, they'd clear their own dishes, out of habit more than anything else, but since Naruto's not allowed near the kitchen until further notice, the staff already said they'd handle the cleanup.

On their way upstairs, the silence starts to feel less awkward between them, feels more like the comfortable quiet he's used to—or maybe it really is just him, because it's one thing to talk to Sasuke over the phone, or try to check on him during video calls, left to wonder whether Sasuke really was doing okay without him, having to make that transition, when they'd already gotten so used to seeing each other on a near daily basis.

It's something else entirely to have Sasuke next to him, to be able to actually see how Sasuke's doing, and maybe even that's just to convince himself that going off to the Academy doesn't necessarily mean he's leaving Sasuke alone.

He kicks off his slippers, leaves them placed wherever, half-hazard on the floor. Face first he plops down on the bed, bouncing a little against the soft material of sheets pulled taut at the corners. He groans against the pillow, inwardly moans about the fact that one of the first things he did after waking up this morning, was make his own bed.

He's not really tired, though. He just doesn't feel like moving. Probably ate too much. And this is just his body's way of readjusting to having actual, real food again.

He turns over on to his back, anyway. It's still early in the afternoon, but the implied suggestion to come upstairs, he could already tell Sasuke wasn't going to say anything. Better for Sasuke to fall asleep on the bed, than try to keep himself up for his sake.

He blinks at the ceiling, then starts to sit up, propped on his elbows, brow furrowed at the sight of Sasuke still standing by the open door. "You packed for next week yet?"

"Mm-hm."

Figures Sasuke's already packed. Of course he'd be.

Naruto still hasn't finished packing, but they aren't leaving until next Friday, so it's okay that he isn't exactly in a hurry to go this peace summit. At least he won't have be there feeling stuffy in a tailored suit, although his mom's already threatened to get him fitted for some new dress clothes soon, because of his recent growth spurt.

("We buy you all these nice things for a reason, little Uzumaki," she said, and he made a face at the name, what she still liked to call him every now and then, even though he wasn't so little anymore. "You're wearing them.")

Carefully, Sasuke slips out of his shoes, leaving them neatly stacked by the doorway. He takes a few steps forward, then stops, lips pursed, eyes slightly narrowed, when he takes another step that becomes two, again stops to just to let out a short huff, determined, pushing strands of hair behind his ear, before he seems to finally make up his mind, making his way to approach the side of the bed where Naruto is.

That biological tic Sasuke has, this seeming inability to be straightforward about certain things, Naruto wants to tease him for it. Really, he does, but there's nothing funny about Sasuke removing his gloves, because he could've sworn they already had a conversation about this, after the last time Sasuke took them off.

"Sasuke, you're not supposed to—"

"As long as you're here, I'll be okay. So, can I just..."

Really, Sasuke doesn't even have to ask.

But he's been a little touchy about it lately, seeking him out for this sort of thing, maybe even self-conscious, despite how often he used to do it before, especially after the really long sessions with Iyashi, falling asleep at Naruto's side—it's still a little surprising, to be honest, whenever Sasuke does come to him like this, even knowing the kind of effect he continues to have on Sasuke, but Naruto doesn't hesitate, falls into the familiar motions, simply does what he's always done.

"Yeah," he says, swallows. "You can always—here, just let me..." The words trail off as he repositions himself on the bed, making more room for Sasuke to lie down, and reaching for the light blanket folded at the foot of the bed.

The bed dips beneath Sasuke's weight, as Sasuke takes up the space between them, settles across from him. He curls up on his side, cheek resting over the crook of his right arm.

Naruto doesn't ask if Sasuke's cold, just drapes the blanket over him, letting it fall below Sasuke's shoulders.

From beneath the blanket, Sasuke raises his arm between them, reaching out with his left hand for Naruto's right, at first the barest brush, when their palms meet, Sasuke's grip light, without his gloves, with the contact of bare skin, and yet somehow that's enough to calm Sasuke, almost instantaneous, this very simple touch enough to relax him, somehow, takes so very little time to take away from whatever was bothering him.

Naruto watches Sasuke's eyes gradually fall closed, watches Sasuke just _breathe_.

It's kind of scary, really, if he lets himself think too much about it, the extent of how much Sasuke actually trusts him, how easily Sasuke can just completely let go around him.

He didn't really get it as a kid, what it meant all those times Sasuke kept referring to him as safe, but he has a better understanding now, even though Sasuke doesn't exactly say it outright anymore, because the way Sasuke looks at him is still the same.

But the way he looks at Sasuke...

That's already changed.

And it's still changing.

Things are just...different now.

And although he can acknowledge those changes, sometimes he still has to catch himself, still has to remind himself, the way Sasuke still sees him, the way Sasuke still _needs_ him, because he doesn't want to take advantage of that. Whatever feelings he has for Sasuke, he doesn't want that to affect what's become normal for them, how Sasuke's come to depend on him—he can't afford to be selfish.

But he doesn't pull away when Sasuke opens his eyes and shifts closer, doesn't say anything against Sasuke's knee carelessly brushed near the top of his leg.

"You get to see Itachi before he left?"

"I did. This morning. We had breakfast before my appointment."

"He say anything about the peace summit?"

"The same thing he always says—what everyone always says." Sasuke gives him a meaningful look, but his eyes are soft, slightly amused. "To stay with you."

Naruto bites at the bottom corner of his lip, absently realises the skin there's a little chapped.

The part about Sasuke having to listen to him, he bets it was somewhere in that conversation with Itachi, too, although Sasuke's a very particular brand of stubborn, with a nerve-racking habit of loosely interpreting the things he's been told.

(When Sasuke first picked up on his ability to learn use elemental magic, it almost like he learned out of sheer determination to be like him and Itachi. Shadow and wind, those were the first elements he taught himself, at the same time even, and for nearly a year he'd spend hours studying on his own, trying to emulate techniques he'd seen Itachi and Naruto do.

He eventually came up with his own technique, based on the one Naruto was being taught by his dad, teaching Naruto to manipulate air rotating in the form of a sphere, as a means to focus, to help him contain sporadic bursts of both his and Kyuubi's magic, too much he had a regular habit of unleashing all at once.

In the beginning, though, Sasuke told only told Naruto about his elemental magic, didn't even tell Itachi, one day just took Naruto to their hiding spot, revealed this tiny little ball of banded shadows and revolving winds, made him promise to keep it a secret until he was really to tell everyone else.

And that was the deal Naruto agreed to, as long as Sasuke agreed not to practice without him anymore, because the moment Naruto thought Sasuke was in over his head, no question, he was going to tell someone—when Naruto asked about other elements, Sasuke said shadow and wind were the only ones he was able to use, conveniently leaving out the fact he was already working toward _yet_, so it didn't seem so bad then.

At least until the inevitable _yet_ kicked in, when one day an excited Sasuke showed Naruto his affinity for fire magic and all but burned off his hand, clearly proving his lack of understanding about the concept of _having limitations_, forcing a panicking Naruto to find Sakura, and immediately throwing any hope he had of being able to practice any kind magic without direct supervision right out the window.

To be a little fair, that was also when Sasuke used to tire out a lot faster, when his stamina was much lower, but even then, he could pick up on other people's techniques _like that_, just after seeing them once or twice, was able to adapt various techniques for his own, and that was probably why he was able to progress so quickly with his elemental magic, especially considering he didn't have any training.)

With Sasuke's track record, though, the growing need to push himself way beyond his limits, for seemingly no apparent reason other than to make the people around him worry, when someone tells him to stay near Naruto, that's essentially telling him to stay out of trouble.

Just the same, as many times as Sasuke's probably been told to stay with him, just as often, Naruto's been asked to stay with Sasuke, not so directly asked to watch over him, to help keep Sasuke safe.

Having Sasuke's family, having even his own parents, inadvertently rely on him to be responsible for another person, specifically someone like Sasuke, it really is a lot. It takes much more than he ever would've imagined when he made that promise back then, and yet he can't deny it's a responsibility he took up on his own. A role it felt natural to fall into, he doesn't even twice about it anymore, because looking after Sasuke, that's just what he does.

Except it's a lot more complicated now.

"...the whole peace summit thing, it's not going to be like all those times before. This is different, you know."

"...Itachi said that, too."

Closing his eyes, Sasuke lets go of Naruto's hand. From above, beneath the blanket, it looks like he's pulling on the cuff of his jacket sleeve.

Naruto responds a little less certain then he'd normally be, but, eventually, slowly, he lifts his arm from underneath the blanket, placing it around Sasuke.

In the middle of deciding where to lay his hand, suddenly, he has this urge to pull Sasuke even closer, to just hold him in a different way, a lingering impression of something new, just beyond his grasp, this idea that he only has bring himself a little further, only has to tilt his head a little lower, to find out what it'd feel like to brush his lips against Sasuke's, if even the briefest little touch would be enough to make Sasuke seem less far away.

And maybe if he just raised his arm a little higher, if he brought his hand to Sasuke's face, pushed away the hair resting over Sasuke's cheek—almost does, but instead he pushes away the thought, lowers his hand, flexing fingers that curl into his palm, touching nothing at all.

Again, Sasuke's hand moves beneath the blanket, but the slight tension returned to his body, it's already disappeared with the release of his pent-up magic, the way it's always seem to come more naturally to him, a slowly increasing warmth that wraps around Naruto, more often than not, through the subconscious use of his empathy, the way Sasuke simply responds to him.

As they are now, all but a familiar tangle of limbs, facing each other with a familiar ease that just _is_, the fact that Sasuke still feels comfortable enough to have this kind of closeness between them, that Sasuke still feels that _safe_ coming to him, for that reason alone, Naruto can't allow it to mean anything more.

"...your appointment with Iyashi, was it that bad?"

Sasuke opens his eyes, brow scrunched. He gives a small shake of his head. "No, it wasn't bad. Just...there were a lot of things he wanted me to talk about, a lot of things he wanted me to do—still wants me to do, before the peace summit."

Naruto make a soft noise in understanding. He's sat in on Sasuke's sessions with Iyashi before. He knows what Sasuke goes through, knows that Iyashi won't hesitate to push him, even now, won't allow him to get in the way of his own progress, because Sasuke still has this tendency to avoid issues that deal with his emotions.

"Are you worried?"

Sasuke just watches him, wearing his usual expression, calm, unassuming. There's nothing about his body language to suggest the question's put him on the defensive, that he's even bothered by what Naruto asked.

"I don't need to do dailies anymore, Naruto," is all he says, simply matter-of-fact.

"This isn't that." Relaxing his fingers, Naruto lets his hand fall over Sasuke's back. "Really," he adds, again biting at the corner of his lip. He wasn't trying to make Sasuke think that at all. "I just..."

He just wants to help. Everything he's done in the past, those things don't work in the same ways anymore, so he has to find new ways to give Sasuke that same kind of reassurance, except sometimes it's more hit than miss, because Sasuke isn't exactly the most receptive to his attempts.

"No, what I mean is," Sasuke says, "it's not me. It's everyone else. My parents and Itachi, they're worried about me having to go. A lot of people are, Iyashi included. But it's not like I'm going to be there alone. They know you're going to be there, too, so, I don't...

"I can understand why they're still not comfortable with me going off world, and I know it especially doesn't help in a situation like this, but whatever it is that has them so worried, whatever's going on, nobody will actually _tell me_ anything."

"...I think," Naruto begins, cautious, fingers absently trailing across Sasuke's back, "I think, maybe there's a reason, and maybe there really are things out there that might make it worse if you knew, so if they're doing it to protect yo—"

"Protect me?" Sasuke says, a little more biting than the tone from before. "Keeping me in the dark about whatever's going on, how is that supposed to protect me, when it just makes me the one least prepared for what's already out there?"

"Yeah, well, it's not like anybody tells me everything, either," Naruto points out, fingers stilled at Sasuke's side, trying not to let his own annoyance at the situation show. "But even if you did know, would it really change things that much?"

Sasuke doesn't answer, just stays quiet.

"Is that what's been bothering you?"

"...I didn't say it was bothering me."

"Okay, then, what do you really think about it?"

"Regardless, I still have to go, so it doesn't matter what I think," Sasuke says, more indifferent than anything else, this almost resigned sort of calm that comes from repeating the same thing out of habit.

But that's how he's learned to deal with these kinds of things, the bold assumptions people tend to make about him, the often unreasonable expectations placed on him by people who don't even know him, just because he has the rarest form of magic.

Still, he can't stay locked away forever, despite his parents and Itachi's continued efforts to shelter him from the rest of the world, because that's not fair to him. That's no way for anyone to live.

But Sasuke simply accepting that he has to go, it's not like Naruto can argue against his reasoning, not when he doesn't even have a leg to stand on.

At the same time, though, despite how easily Sasuke seems able to accept the situation for what it is, it's still hard for Naruto to accept the fact that this is something he _can't_ fix. Not just him and Sasuke having to go to the peace summit, but the changes around them in general, an increasingly growing list of things he's discovered he truly is powerless against, the kinds of things at play he simply can't fight on his own.

After making it to the Academy, being able to hit that milestone, he used to think it'd be the defining moment that would've made all the difference, because he used to think that he only had to get stronger in order to protect Sasuke. But as he grows older, despite how far he's come, the accomplishments he's made, no matter what anyone says, no matter how hard he trains, how much he learns, more and more, somehow, it just feels like he's still not doing enough.

"You say that now, that it doesn't matter what you think, but saying that doesn't mean you're okay."

Sasuke shifts a little closer towards him, closing his eyes with a soft sigh. "...at least you'll be there with me."

It's a miracle Naruto doesn't just tense up right then and there, that his body doesn't make his embarrassment glaringly obvious, although he's grateful Sasuke's starting to nod off, because there's no way to hide the way he feels his cheeks growing impossibly warm—an airy sort of warm that flutters in his chest, for a moment catches his breath, but also the same kind of warm that starts to twist in the pit of his stomach, an unpleasant sensation he forces himself to ignore, tell himself it's easier to pretend doesn't exist, because he can't help but feel disappointed in himself for still holding on to the small part of him that wants to believe one day it actually could mean something more.

"It's fine, Naruto," Sasuke murmurs, eyes still closed.

Naruto still frowns, though, eyes slightly narrowed. As often as Sasuke likes to use that word, really, it doesn't mean what Sasuke probably wants to think it means.

When it comes to anything near the subject of Sasuke's sensitivity, bringing it up can be a little tricky at times. And it's not even that Sasuke necessarily gets upset, but he definitely tries to sidestep the more direct shows of concern, before anyone can actually ask if his empathy is affecting him.

Although he's come a long way from those days of having really bad episodes, it's hard to tell sometimes, because he has gotten so much better with his shields, but there's still the matter of whether or not he's feeling overwhelmed by his emotions, or simply trying to avoid the issue altogether.

"I didn't ask if it was fine, Sasuke. I asked if you're okay."

The only response Naruto gets is a soothing warmth, on the edge of his consciousness, the gentlest little nudge, Sasuke this time intentionally reaching out with his empathy.

It's nothing that Sasuke's ever forced on him, no particular way Sasuke's tried to make him feel, just...a quiet sort of assurance that helps settle him, helps him find his own calm.

Being able to share that kind of warmth, it's pretty common between most magic users, because of how their type of empathy works; the closer magic users are to each other, the stronger that ability usually is, because it's more or less about intent, but with him and Sasuke, even taking Sasuke's specific type of empathy into account, their connection has always been well beyond the norm.

Sure, some of it probably has to do with the way Sasuke's magic appeals to Kyuubi, however that works, but even if Naruto didn't feel this deep-seated, almost compulsion to protect Sasuke, there's a lot more to their relationship than just that.

_"You keep saying you always have to put me first, but what good is any of that to me—to anyone— if you don't think about yourself, too?_

_"And I know it's just the kind of person you are. I know I can't ask you to change that, but how easy it is for you to forget about yourself sometimes, Naruto, especially when it comes to me, I don't..."_

How well Sasuke really does know him, tries to comfort him, despite his usual teasing, will readily take care of him, all the ways Sasuke tends to express himself (instead of using what normal people use, those things called _words)_, although it really is a nice feeling, he still feels a little guilty about it sometimes, since for so long it's always been the other way around, always him Sasuke would turn to.

Or maybe he's just thinking too much into it, as much he wishes things could just go back to the way they were, when he used to be so sure of himself, when he used to be able to tell Sasuke everything would be okay, before he started to doubt his abilities, before he almost let Mizuki get the best of him, before he got caught up in all his insecurities, because he's supposed to be the one Sasuke can depend on, already promised he'd be the one who—

"_Ow_." He recoils from the finger and thumb that flicked the space between his brow, nearly goes crossed-eyed in his attempt to glare at Sasuke. "And just what was that for, huh?"

"You're getting worked up again," Sasuke says, eyes not quite open, when he again allows them to fall closed.

"Tch, the nerve of someone like you telling me I'm getting worked up again," Naruto mumbles.

Really, of all people, Sasuke's the one person who never seems to take these kinds of situations as seriously as he should, so of course that's easy for Sasuke to say—like Naruto doesn't already have enough to worry about, like he doesn't already worry enough for the _both_ of them.

"You can't expect me _not_ to get worked up about something like this."

As annoyed as Naruto is about being dragged into the middle of another political affair, though, he knows he's not overreacting—not this time, not with the way everyone around him keeps talking about this supposed peace summit.

On the surface, the idea's not all that bad. It even makes sense. Between the Alliance and the Federation, the two biggest military powers this side of the galaxy, considering all the history there, although things are relatively stable for now, nowhere near what it used to be even after the Second Great War, there's only so much left to compete for, and something's got to give.

Eventually.

Or at least that's what it seems like everyone's thinking, anyway, based on the conversations he's overheard, bits and pieces probably not meant for his ears, here and there whispers he's caught in passing, about the more pronounced strain on the relationship between the Alliance and the Federation.

From that standpoint, he gets why the Federation's proposal for a peace summit is such a serious issue. Almost anything's an improvement beyond some old, uneasy truce they've only been skirting around for the longest time.

Plus, it would mean a lot to the magic user community, too; basic rights for magic users was one of the major reasons the Alliance and Federation even started a war in the first place, and the tension left behind still hasn't gone away.

But the whole thing about the peace summit, the Federation apparently turning a new leaf, claiming they want to understand magic users, and work on improving relations with the Alliance, the problem isn't the proposal itself.

No, the problem is how obvious the Federation's been about trying to make sure Sasuke would attend.

While Naruto can admit he might not be the most mindful person out there, even he could see the proposal for the stunt it was.

Something like this, there's no reason to have kids directly involved, kids like him, and especially Sasuke. Without questions, Sasuke's always gotten a lot of attention for being a life user, something Naruto had no choice but to get used to, yet for that kind of attention to come so openly from the Federation, without them even trying to cover their blatant interest, it did a lot more than just raise some red flags.

During his last break over the holidays, Naruto heard his share of heated discussions between Sasuke's parents and his own, and he remembers staying up a little later trying to eavesdrop as the voices grew lower, because everyone was being so secretive about the negotiations being made, and about whether or not he and Sasuke would actually have to be at the peace summit.

The politics of it all, he won't even pretend to understand that, but, growing up around his mom and dad, with his parents being such influential figures in the Alliance, he couldn't help but learn a few things, so he gets how these kinds of things play out, all the stuff not being said outright. That's just how it works.

Although from what he could piece together at the time, the thing that stood out most, was the topic of Orochimaru.

He didn't know much about Orochimaru then, never heard of him before the name started consistently popping up throughout most of the conversation he'd overheard. At first, he thought Orochimaru was just some run-of-the-mill bad news. Now that he knows more, though, yeah, Orochimaru's confirmed presence at the peace summit significantly factors into why he's getting worked up about the situation.

Surprisingly, Orochimaru used to be part of the Alliance. He was actually a pretty big deal in the medical field, did a lot of government-sponsored work, but then there was this disaster on Tollan a few months back, kept real hush-hush; allegedly, Orochimaru was conducting illegal experiments on people, and it caused an epidemic that nearly wiped out the entire colony.

Not long after word got out, with suspicion around him growing, Orochimaru defected from the Alliance, found refuge within the Federation, where he claimed sanctuary and was accepted with open arms.

In the end, nothing was proven either way, and the case has been in limbo ever since. Legally, it can't move forward as long as the Federation won't hand him over, so it's seems like it's anyone's guess what Orochimaru's been doing over there—aside from getting real cosy with the higher-ups there, since he's actually part of the committee pulling the strings behind the peace summit, with the bright idea to invite the younger, teenaged kids of important diplomats and career officials from both the Alliance and the Federation.

That's the gist of it, anyway. Based on that alone, Naruto hopes he never has to run into him, definitely doesn't want him anywhere near Sasuke—as if the guy didn't already sound sketchy as hell, like he needs to look any worse, apparently, he has an obsession with Sasuke's life magic, something to do with his research on immortality, whatever that's supposed to mean.

According to Itachi, Orochimaru's been attempting to contact Sasuke for the past couple months, coinciding with when Federation first submitted the proposal for the peace summit; he's been leaving all these creepy voice messages about wanting to meet Sasuke, wanting to personally get to know him and learn how his life magic works, wondering out loud how Sasuke's empathy would respond to him—Naruto was only allowed to listen to a snippet from one message (not that he needed to listen to any more, or that Kyuubi wasn't already agitated enough by that point), but even that small sound bite was too much, more than enough to make his skin crawl.

Somehow, Orochimaru got a hold of Sasuke's old number, even got a hold of the number for Itachi and Sasuke's place, although Itachi's been screening those calls since he and Sasuke moved in; he's even sent paper letters through standard mail, using plain envelopes marked by Sasuke's name alone, with no return address.

The worst thing, though, is that there's nothing necessarily considered illegal about what he's been doing—never mind that Sasuke's only thirteen, and Orochimaru's more than three times his age. All the things Orochimaru's said to Sasuke, about his magic or his empathy, when taken at face value, they're just words, not threats, little more than the _idle musings of a curious scientist_. That's how Orochimaru defends it.

The only reason Sasuke doesn't know about any of it, is because everything was intercepted before it could reach him. All those safeguards put in place to protect him, there's some seriously heavy logistics that goes on behind the scenes, and Naruto's only now just being brought into the fold.

How often Sasuke's name kept coming up in connection to the peace summit, that was what gave Naruto the final push he needed to confront his parents about it, based on the fragments of conversations he'd overheard, asked what Sasuke had to do with any of it. Inevitably, that meant Mikoto, Fugaku, and Itachi were going to be involved, too.

Involving him, though, not surprisingly, they all had their reservations about it, especially because of his age, worried he was trying to take on too much at once; like Sasuke, he had to deal with the same kinds of expectations already placed on him, this highly discriminating image of him people wanted to see, just because he carried his mom's name, just because he was his dad's son—that, on top of not being able to perform magic anywhere close to his full potential, having to hold back from what he was really capable of, because he couldn't afford to risk drawing attention to Kyuubi.

But he put up a pretty good argument, eventually convinced them that taking on the responsibility of looking after Sasuke wasn't something he was forced to do— it was a choice he already made, a choice he never once did regret—and since he was already doing his part to help protect Sasuke, anyway, it'd make a lot more sense to have someone like him in the know, someone they already knew they could trust, someone that Sasuke already _did trust_, with eyes and ears in places where they couldn't always reach.

Ultimately, it was decided he wouldn't be told everything, and he honestly hadn't been expecting that, but once he accepted he'd actually be allowed to know more, they warned him there'd be no looking back.

And so, with his case made, with his choice made, they had a serious talk, had the real sit-down sort of conversation about the dangers regularly posed to Sasuke, even talked about a few of the dangers posed to him, too.

And Naruto listened.

They outlined what learning about those kinds of things would actually entail, alongside the increased responsibility that came from simply having that knowledge, as they began to explain the intricacies that came with such a high profile situation, emphasised the delicate nature of the Federation's proposal, confirming what he'd already suspected, introducing more than a few things he wasn't aware of, including Orochimaru's clear interest in Sasuke.

No wonder why Mikoto and Fugaku were initially so against letting Sasuke attend the peace summit. They'd been pushing back on the idea since the start of the negotiations, after a less than subtle ultimatum, in the form of an invitation being publically extended to Sasuke.

But as much as they tried to fight it, even going against the urging from other members of their family, with the Federation threatening to withdraw the proposal if those exact terms weren't met, there was pressure coming from within the Alliance, too, pressure that came directly from the Council.

Even though Sasuke wouldn't be the only kid there, clearly, Sasuke was a special case. Anyone involved had to see that. And although Naruto's parents weren't happy about the situation, either, they were the ones who eventually ended up talking Mikoto and Fugaku down.

(Itachi was a different story altogether, though. Because he wasn't officially invited, he wasn't going to go, and he didn't say anything about what he actually thought about the situation, but just for a second, there was this one look Naruto caught, at the mention of Orochimaru's name, the first time Naruto ever saw such a cold expression on Itachi's face, for a brief moment, his first glimpse into a darker side of Itachi he didn't recognise.)

But to think the whole thing would've fallen apart if Mikoto and Fugaku hadn't agreed to let Sasuke go, seriously, how much more obvious could the Federation be?

If it was more than enough for even him to pick up on, he knew he wasn't the only one, and yet despite that, after learning that everyone else _knew_, too, in the end, they still agreed to go along with it.

And he didn't want to accept that.

At first, he almost refused to go, and his immediate response was to keep Sasuke as far away from Orochimaru as possible. It didn't make sense to risk putting Sasuke in a situation like that, to have him even remotely near the same place as the guy who was all but stalking him—even Kyuubi was speaking up about it.

_It doesn't sit well with me. So much secrecy surrounding this human's intentions towards Sachi, do not expect me to stand idle, Naruto, while there are those around who would do Sachi harm._

Except his dad had a point, too. A really good one Naruto couldn't disagree with.

_"Honestly, I'd rather have you both stay home. I'd feel a lot better about the situation if you were staying on Nagi, where we know it's..._

_"But the long-term consequences of refusing their invitation, the significance of what a proposal like this could mean for the Alliance, for the entire magic user community, it's so much bigger than us, Naruto. And we can't afford to ignore that." _

It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was what he reluctantly came to accept, what he's kept to himself, because one the conditions of being told these kinds of things, is that he's not allowed to share them with Sasuke.

Some of the attention Sasuke gets, for a lot of stuff, like Orochimaru's apparent obsession with him, he probably is better off not knowing, and although Naruto still has mixed feelings about it, what Sasuke is allowed to know, it's not his decision. Surprisingly, or maybe not, when it comes to assuring Sasuke's safety, Itachi's the one who usually has the final say.

_"But aren't you worried what Sasuke will think, if he finds out about it, that you've been keeping all these things from him?"_

_"No, because I want Sasuke to be unafraid to live his life freely, rather than have him constantly looking over his shoulder, running from every shadow that would chase him simply for being who he is. As long as I'm able to provide that for him, whatever Sasuke may think of me after the fact, it's a risk I'm willing to take."_

The only silver lining, is that along with the rest of the kids their age, he and Sasuke are going to be separated from the adults, grouped with chaperones chosen to act as neutral parties, so it does make him feel a little better knowing he won't have to worry about either of them being in the same room as Orochimaru.

It's still hard to take in, though, as much as everyone tried to their best not to overwhelm him, and it's still taking time for him to process the broader extent of what's really out there, that people like Orochimaru do exist, and the sheer amount of effort that's necessary to protect Sasuke from all of it.

It's just—

He blinks at the magic playing with the side of his hair, a wisp of air that briefly tickles his cheek.

"...you do know you can't do that at the peace summit, right," he murmurs, glancing down to see Sasuke's eyes are still closed. There's a slight tug at the front of his shirt, and he stills, as Sasuke shifts, curled up pressed against him, head tucked beneath Naruto's chin.

Gradually, Naruto starts to relax, gives into the normalcy of something so simple between them, how much he truly did miss this. He breathes in deep, breathes out slowly, for now just lets himself hold Sasuke close, lets Sasuke's warmth surround him.

"...you're hopeless, Naruto."


	5. V Like Rhinestones, Falling From the Sky

Warnings for brief discussion involving the possibility of non-consensual touching that didn't occur. In the case of Sasuke's empathy, it's not touching in a sexual sense; it's more about someone intentionally trying to impose their emotions on him, because of Sasuke's perceived sensitivity, trying to make him feel a certain way, which Orochimaru more or less had been trying and ultimately failed to do.

...

_Following his encounter with Orochimaru, Sasuke returns to Nagi, returns to his brother, tries to seek solace despite his still diminishing grasp of a world that seems more than content to continue on with or without him._

...

**V. Like Rhinestones, Falling From the Sky**

As comfortable as Sasuke is with his empathy, as much as he does trust his magic, there are still certain things, certain aspects of being a life user, more so as he grows older, that he continues to struggle with.

He still doesn't know what any of it's supposed to mean, can't understand how people would even think to place so much significance in something that doesn't even affect them directly, how so many people have been able convince themselves his mere existence essentially makes him whatever they want to believe—in the grand scheme of things, he can acknowledge the rarity of having life magic, the fact that it's been a century since the last known life user appeared, but when everything keeps coming back to that, when it always seems to come down to these very moments where it feels like his entire worth is somehow equated to his magic alone, whatever superficial value in his abilities people want to see, all of it means so very little to him.

If he could live the rest of his life outside the scope of public scrutiny, he probably wouldn't have given it a second thought, but sometimes it really does bother him, this perceived notion of who he is, or rather this already established idea of who he's supposed to be, simply based on the fact that he's a life user, because he is the one who's directly affected by it.

As long as he's been dealing with his own public perception, though, he realised it's just something he's going to have to put up with, definitely not something he's going to be able to escape any time soon.

Still, he tries not to let it get under his skin, tells himself he shouldn't let what other people may think bother him so much, because that's what Naruto tells him, too, that people shouldn't be so quick to make assumptions about him just because he has life magic, that people shouldn't always assume his empathy makes him...

Then again, it's those same assumptions that also happen to work in his favour, an image crafted of him his parents have carefully helped to maintain.

There are still plenty of people wary enough of his magic as it is, in particular due to its rarity, the fact he has life magic at all, although it's the heavy focus on his empathy that seems to temper most of the misgivings apparently based on unspoken prejudices stemmed from him still being a magic user.

For his own safety, he's been told to go along with it, because it's important for people to continue promoting their own image of a magic user who's the furthest thing from being any kind of threatening.

And maybe that's the most annoying thing, not being able to break away from that perception, having to keep up with this very passive portrayal depicting him as someone he knows he's not.

Because of his parents' standing on the political scene, because of the obligations that come from being part of the Uchiha family, he understands the need to uphold appearances, and, as a life user, the role he's expected to play when he does have to attend the kinds of public events or private functions his parents are often invited to.

He won't say he's made peace with it, because he hasn't, and he's not really sure he can, not where he is now, but he's accepted it as a situation he can't fundamentally change, and a situation that has an impact on his parents, as well.

Worse than the way he's perceived, however, is how people tend to respond to that perception, the way they often talk over him, while he's with his parents, will still talk about him like he isn't even there, and politely pretend not to notice the gloves he's wearing, despite the occasional glance thrown in his direction.

It's not that he doesn't realise where it's coming from, though. Most of the attention he's received is a consequence of how his specific empathy works, the fact that it can have an effect on non-magic users, even with something that's never been documented before; it's why people tend to be more curious about his empathy rather than his life magic, because that type of empathy has always been recognised as a ability that only occurs within magic users.

And yet somehow his empathy, with his naturally high levels of sensitivity, somehow, people think that gives them permission to treat him like he's...

_Weak_.

That's what he doesn't like to say, the way he doesn't want to be seen, but he's fully aware some variant of the word is how people view him, like his empathy suddenly makes him incapable of handling emotions, suddenly means he has the most delicate sensibilities, his empathy reduced to no more than an emotional frailty—as if he's some lost child helpless without guidance from the adults around him, someone with such a sensitive nature, simply expected to comply with their preconceived notions of him, allow himself to be posed the way he's supposed to moved, because it's already given he's liable to break down over the tiniest little thing.

Admittedly, some of it does seem well-intentioned, usually from his parents' closer colleagues, the ones he's known for a while, and the ones who usually do act of concern, not wanting to upset him, but sometimes with that concern comes gratuitous touches, many times an unwarranted closeness from people who probably want to believe themselves to be reassuring, picking up where security may leave off, a courteous hand placed over his shoulder or at his side, leading him through a crowded area, helping him stay close to his parents, out of kindness, supposedly, and yet the gesture remains misplaced, patronising all the same.

But he bears it, whenever his parents give him a concerned glance, bites his tongue and tells them he's okay.

It isn't so bad, though. Kushina and Minato are usually invited to the same gatherings, so it's a lot more bearable when they end up with close seating arrangements, because the closeness he shares with them is a welcomed one, and the warmth from their lingering touches actually is reassuring.

(With Naruto at the Academy, he doesn't have to make those kinds of appearances anymore, and it's still something Sasuke's trying to adjust to, no longer being able to spend as much time together as they used to, but it's also a stark reminder of how much he really does rely on Naruto, underlining the reality that he needs to work harder towards being able to do more things on his own, because he's old enough now that he shouldn't be so dependent on Naruto, anyway.)

And even without Kushina and Minato, given that he just turned thirteen, he's not really expected to engage in any substantial conversation, despite how much he's learned from simply observing, or the fact that he has started keeping up with current affairs, because he does want to better understand what's happening around him. Yet, if he's not on the receiving end of the more obtrusive stares, he's mostly looked over, even on the extremely rare occasion other kids his age happen to be there, too.

Very few strangers actually approach him, anyway, preferring to keep a respectable distance. Of course, they'd also have to go through security and his parents first, if they did want to initiate contact with him, so there's always that, although there was one person who proved himself an exception to what Sasuke had come to expect.

He was a retired member of the Council, one of his parents' former superiors, and although they'd been out of touch for a few good years, they became reacquainted during a private charity gala sponsored by his Uncle Madara.

(It was the kind of fundraiser common among elected officials, the kind that also served as an attempt to attract additional positive press, and his uncle was no different, preparing for his upcoming election against Danzou. Yet it happened to serve as a family affair, too, because in their family it was simply understood they were expected to be continue the long-standing tradition of the Uchiha name being prominently involved in either military or political matters.)

Trying not to seem obvious, Sasuke listened, gleaned as much as he could, as his parents and the considerably older man who'd approached them went through the usual social niceties typically exchanged at these kinds of events, although the sort of exchange that would sometimes read ambiguous at best, contradictory at worst, depending on the history of the parties involved, if he listened closely enough to parse the meanings behind often carefully chosen words.

Nearing the end of their conversation, however, instead of wandering off to mingle with the other guests, the man made a subtle gesture to the small, round table where Sasuke was seated by himself.

The man received a small smile from his mom, returned the silent permission with the small upturn of his lips more fleeting, a smile somewhat defeated, already frayed at one corner of his mouth.

Slowly, he made his way toward the table, made the short distance with a slight hobble to his walk. He stopped next to one of the chairs, standing upright, held his high, yet held his smile unchanged, as he looked to Sasuke. "Sorry for troubling you," he said in Japanese, his voice a low, rasping sound, "but do you mind if I sit here?"

Sasuke barely managed to hide his surprise. Considering he'd just heard the man speaking with his parents in Standard, he wasn't exactly expecting him to know Japanese, too, or to even sound so comfortable speaking it, because most people usually weren't as familiar with it.

He pushed that aside, though, gave a polite bow of his head, gave a polite greeting welcoming the man to sit, because he knew his mom and dad wouldn't just allow anyone near him; that his parents felt he could handle this sort of situation on his own, that meant something in and of itself.

Still, he didn't know what to expect, couldn't imagine why someone like that would be interested in him, although instead of turning to his parents in question, he kept his composure, refrained from maintaining direct eye contact, like he'd been taught, had to be reminded so many times before, held himself modest in appearance, yet no less aware, watching as the man sat down, sitting a chair away from him.

Returning Sasuke's bow with a small nod, the man thanked him for being kind enough to humour him, and then introduced himself as Delegate Sanchez.

Sasuke gave yet another polite response, all but going through the motions, maintaining the higher level of formality usually expected at these events—Sanchez started to laugh, let out this small, sort of self-deprecating sound, a mild noise slightly strained and hoarse, despite the noticeable warmth in dark brown eyes.

"Forgive me, but you really are too kind." He ran a hand through his hair, short grey strands noticeably thinner closer towards his hairline. "At my age, having a title like that, it's more honorary than anything that could ever hold real meaning in this sort of environment."

Honestly, Sasuke didn't know how to respond, so he didn't, which seemed to suit Sanchez just fine, amused him even, when he admitted he appreciated Sasuke's willingness to keep someone like him company, because he'd been feeling a little out of place.

"It's fine," Sasuke decided to say, because there was nothing that felt wrong about Sanchez, nothing that made him feel uneasy, although there was something about him, more than just his seemingly humble demeanour, still a little unclear, the simplest notion that started to settle on the edge of his consciousness.

At first it was...strange, to say the least, but then maybe some of that was due to a sense of relief, too, just from the knowledge Sanchez really wasn't expecting anything from him, which Sanchez went on to prove, by holding an entire conversation without waiting for any sort of contribution from him, without any of those deliberate pauses some people liked to use, not subtle at all in their attempts, probably because they recognised his own social obligation to respond, when they were looking to Sasuke to confirm their own bias, whatever they wanted to think of him.

Despite the one-sided nature of the conversation, he found he was content to listen, as he absently picked at the rest of his food, even found it a little serene, how easily Sanchez moved from one tangent to the next, as if he were in a sea of photographs, taking his time, carefully wading through a tangible trove of memories too many placed before him, reminiscing aloud, maybe just for the sake reminding himself there were still things he hadn't yet forgotten.

He didn't ask about Sasuke's magic, though, didn't once mention Sasuke's empathy.

The most personal thing he said about Sasuke, was that he remembered the handful of times he'd seen him as a baby, and how every time Sasuke would cry around him, or seemingly anyone who didn't have features similar to Itachi.

"You definitely had a pair of lungs on you," Sanchez said, the corners of his eyes crinkling the memory. "Wouldn't have known it, not with how quiet you are now."

"...oh."

"But you remind me of someone I once knew. Someone who taught me how to appreciate the quiet, taught me how to listen—something I wish I had the patience to learn a long time ago. Lucky you, though, seems like you already understand what too many people tend to overlook. "

Sanchez also talked a little about the time he served in the military, which Sasuke had guessed earlier, just based on the way he carried himself, and while he wasn't a magic user, he'd been stationed at Nagi a few times, claimed to have learned a thing or two during his short stint as an instructor there.

He seemed the most content while he talked about his wife, though, called her his rock, his Connie, as much as the thought of her seemed to make his already faltering smile waver, lent his gaze toward something not quite bittersweet, when he said that he was just counting down the days, until he'd be able to see her again.

There were bouts of silence, too, as quiet as it could get with a backdrop of shuffled noise and the continued overlap of random conversations, moments when Sanchez would get a sort of distant look, between calm sighs, brief stretches of quiet that weren't necessarily uncomfortable, but overall Sasuke didn't mind keeping him company, throughout the conversation gradually drawn toward _something_ about him, enough that he'd been unintentionally responding with his empathy.

Not that Sanchez would've noticed, but that something, whatever it was, reflected in dark brown eyes, this emotion just slightly beyond his grasp , something that almost felt...incomplete.

Naruto always liked to say he was too curious for his own good, which Sasuke didn't always have the ability to argue against, because it probably would apply here, too, but he couldn't deny the gentle sway of his magic, its presence growing restless below the surface, pulsating beneath his skin, and since he'd already given into his empathy, anyway, it wouldn't hurt to give in again, just for a moment, just a second or two, a mere glimpse into what his magic was demanding to see—and in that moment, when Sanchez turned away, when no one else was watching, when he felt his eyes begin to grow wide, as the sound seemingly disappeared from all around them, as the colour surrounding him began to fade, it was then that Sasuke _looked_.

But just as soon, everything came rushing back, too loud, too bright, and Sasuke blinked.

"I know I have to be patient," Sanchez began, with a glance toward the open floor, toward a small group of people laughing, smiling with the toast of their glasses held high, made again that same self-deprecating sound, when Sasuke finally realised what that _something_ he'd been drawn to was, "if I want to see her again, but..."

He gave a small shake of his head. "That you were kind enough to listen to an old man like me..."

Beneath the table, Sasuke tugged on the sleeve of his suit jacket, breathed as he felt his magic wrap around him, as his empathy continued to slip slowly between them, found that there was nothing he could really say.

"...thank you."

Because Sanchez was _dying_.

"No, it's..."

Yet Sanchez was already beginning to stand, already excusing himself to leave, his gaze still warm, tinged with a calm sort of ease, with a small upturn at the corner of his lips, if only this time marginally less frayed.

"It was nice meeting you, Sasuke."

Two days later, Sanchez died in his sleep.

Sasuke didn't know him enough about to feel any particular way about his passing, but it did come as a surprise to his parents, which immediately follow with concerns about his empathy, whether or not he'd be affected.

Trying to convince them he was fine, however, by telling them he'd already been aware Sanchez was dying, apparently, that wasn't the right thing to say, since it was exactly what they'd been worried about, due to his history, many times over, a proven penchant to blindly go along with his magic, with absolutely no regard whatsoever for the consequences, never mind the fact he wouldn't have known about Sanchez if his parents hadn't confirmed it—except Shisui's death was something that lingered unspoken between all of them, was a cloud still very much hanging over him, an issue he still hadn't truly addressed, because what happened that day, as Shisui laid there unmoving beside him, that he'd been able to actually _feel_ Shisui...

But Sanchez was different. Death was something he seemed to have already accepted, something he was seemingly waiting for. At the time, his body was already dying, with little of his life force remained to sustain it, what Sasuke had seen, very little provisional space left to actually fill. Simply put, at that stage, death became much more certain.

That kind of imminence, however, Sasuke attributed to the natural progression of inevitable decay. So, while he did give in to his magic's persuasion, stirred within him, a gentle insistence heightened by the need to satisfy his own sense of curiosity, he didn't feel as compelled to use his life magic, the way he was normally drawn to fix the rips and tears within another person's life force.

(His natural inclination to heal, to need alleviate someone else's hurt, it was still there, because that didn't really go away; usually, it just took the form of his empathy instead, the only way he really knew how to lessen the urge.)

There was also his lack of familiarity with Sanchez, when he considered why his magic hadn't seemingly jumped at the opportunity to run rampant, despite the fact he hadn't been exposed to Sanchez's life force for too long, because the length of his exposure hadn't mattered in the past.

It'd been an issue before, so it was fair that his parents were worried about any connection he might've made with Sanchez, and the possibility of that connection affecting his empathy.

And it was very the reason his parents had started making him wear gloves customised especially for him, to help offset the urges that seemingly came along with his life magic.

The gloves were for his own safety, more so than anything else, because while his life magic didn't manifest as violently as his empathy when it'd first appeared, in some ways, it was actually more volatile, when even the slightest bare touch would take him into a sort of trance, when his eyes grew uncomfortably large, glazed over white, while colour would bleed away from his vision burned with hues of grey and the barest hint of blue— immediately drawn toward any disruption in the natural flow of a person's life force, no matter how small, would actively seek any perceived flaw, completely taken over by his magic, would quickly tire himself out trying to repair with his own life force whatever he could find.

But familiarity became a crucial part of learning how to manage his life magic, too. During those first couple months, his mom created with these safety drills they'd practice together, through consistent repetition would stress the importance of knowing when it was appropriate to use his magic, through simple rhyme and verse, simple reminders of the rules that were there to help keep him safe.

"But you can't let just anyone else see. You have to keep this a secret, because only your safe adults know, okay?"

"Okay."

"Do you remember your safe adults?"

Alongside his dailies, the drills became so deeply ingrained into his routine, reinforced why he wasn't supposed to stray away from his safe adults, why he wasn't supposed to use his magic in front of people he didn't know, became a subconscious habit that taught him to be more mindful of his surroundings, a more learned sort of scepticism that worked to help counter his life magic's inherently indiscriminate nature.

It wasn't just for the sake of his life magic, though. Later, his mom would it was one of her greatest fears, that the wrong person learned he had elemental magic, because even with her position, with his father's position, despite the power of the Uchiha name, despite all the influential people they knew, she was still afraid they wouldn't be able to protect him, if anyone outside their trusted circle discovered the true extent of his abilities as a life user.

"As you are now, as you are with your empathy, there are people who'd still try to take you away from us—people who already have tried to take you away from us. I'm not saying this to scare you, but because you were too young to understand the answers I couldn't give you before.

"We can only do so much, Sasuke. If nothing else, I need you to understand that."

And he does. Since meeting Sanchez, since that experience deviated so much from what he was used to at that point, he thinks he's grown to have a better grasp of how people view him, more than just the pervading belief that he really is so susceptible to emotions, as annoying as it is, because there also seems to be this assumption, more so among non-magic users, maybe, that his empathy allows for the opportunity for others to manipulate his emotions, something he's only come to realise recently.

Sensitivity in terms of magic doesn't carry the same stigma as sensitivity in terms of how people respond to emotions. For magic users, their kind of empathy corresponds directly with magical ability. Outside of that, however, because of his life magic, while he can acknowledge he does respond with his empathy, typically when it comes to those close to him, he doesn't want to believe it's something that would make it easier for other people to take advantage of it.

More than a few times, he'd been encouraged to smile more, in some shape or form, told that it'd make him more approachable to other people, since he was already so shy.

Needless to say, he didn't take anyone up on those offers.

Naruto snorted into a fit of giggles when Sasuke had told him, thought it was the weirdest thing ever, clearly torn between the idea of Sasuke being shy and the idea of Sasuke putting on that kind of smile for other people, but then he turned serious, a lot more thoughtful, the slightest irritation creeping into his voice, when he suggested it was probably because people automatically saw him as someone who was emotionally available, and that was why they were usually so surprised to see his personality was naturally more reserved than what they'd been expecting.

He's more aware of it now, in the back of his mind, sometimes takes notice of the crude prodding at his emotional barriers, deliberately or otherwise, regardless of intent, although the attempts themselves meagre on their own, because his natural level of empathy is that high, and his shields more much advanced than those from even the most accomplished magic users.

Besides, that's just not how his empathy works.

The most disturbing attempt to date, though, the most recent, as well as the most brazen, happened at the peace summit Saturday, during his encounter with Orochimaru.

How casually a virtual stranger had approached him, said his name with such familiarity, seemed to already know so much about him, with hushed excitement, the way Orochimaru simply _looked_ at him, very near an obsessive bordering on unnerving, through an open assessment, the way Orochimaru spoke about his empathy, spoke about wanting to learn how his magic worked—being made the object of a poorly contained fascination, while Sasuke can't deny the entire exchange made him uncomfortable, there was nothing about Orochimaru he felt intimidated by, but it was also the first time someone had truly tried to intimidate him, by making a purposeful attempt to coerce his emotions, trying to make him feel a specific way.

He was more annoyed, really, especially when Orochimaru compared him to Itachi, said that he wasn't quite like his brother, insinuating the same kinds of things he'd already heard before, mocking him with the same contrived assumptions about his abilities solely based on his empathy. Whatever Orochimaru had been expecting from him, he didn't particularly care, because he wasn't going to entertain it.

Honestly, putting aside Orochimaru's eagerness to indulge in his own scientific curiosity, Sasuke's not really bothered by the situation, especially after the fact, although no one else seems to share that sentiment.

Maybe if he knew about Orochimaru beforehand, maybe he wouldn't have wandered away from Naruto, maybe he would've tried to stay close, despite his growing discomfort at the unavoidable stares from the other kids there, periodic glances he couldn't ignore, questions they were too polite to direct toward him, but questions about him they seemingly had no issues asking Naruto, never mind all the attention Naruto was already receiving.

And the fact he didn't want to be around for that, well...

Nobody else seemed to notice he was no longer there, anyway, including the chaperones who were supposed to be watching them, because he hadn't even wandered that far, was just outside the room, still in the hall, and maybe it wouldn't have turned into such an ordeal if Orochimaru hadn't approached him—if Naruto hadn't decided to come after him.

And suddenly, Naruto was just _there_—fingers seized tight around Sasuke's arm, _fuming_, he pulled Sasuke behind him, trying to keep Sasuke from the stranger's view, the air depressed around him, his entire body trembling, Kyuubi already resonating within him, dangerously close to the surface, Kyuubi's magic already so close intertwined with Naruto's own.

The moment the stranger was out of sight, Naruto's attention went right back to Sasuke, blue eyes narrowed, searching for signs he already knew to look for, checking to make sure Sasuke will still wearing his gloves, while his hands roamed over him, turned less frantic as they ran along the outside of Sasuke's arms, pressing them close to Sasuke's sides, when Naruto gave him a soft shake.

"...did that guy do anything to you?"

Sasuke let himself be moved, unconsciously leaned into the hands that rose to frame his face, careful, tilting up his chin. "What're you—"

"That Orochimaru guy, if he did something to you," Naruto began, voice growing lower, words whispered harsh, "if that bastard tried anything with you, _anything_, you need to tell me—you have to tell me, Sasuke."

"It's oka—"

"No, it's not okay because I heard him—I _heard_ him, and the things that bastard said to you, he should've _never_ said those things to you, Sasuke. No one should ever say those kinds of things to you—and you need to know that—you need to remember that, because no one gets to talk any kind of way to you, all right."

Sasuke blinked, stunned by the sudden intensity, in Naruto's tone a sudden urgency, trapped beneath the determined resolve of blue eyes that for a brief moment flashed red. He wasn't afraid. He'd never been afraid of Naruto or Kyuubi, never had a reason to be, but he found himself startled all the same, slightly alarmed, because while he knew Naruto's anger was directed toward that Orochimaru guy, Naruto hadn't said anything to explain _why_.

"...all right."

"That's why you have to tell me," Naruto said, and vaguely, Sasuke realised, the entire time, they hadn't been speaking Standard; since confronting Orochimaru, Naruto had switched over to their native Japanese, had already ensured the small audience they'd drawn wouldn't understand them. "Did he try to touch you?"

"Naruto, I don't—"

"Sasuke, did he _touch_ you?" came a low hiss, a near snarl, a slight rumble from Naruto's chest, tinged with Kyuubi's presence, from Kyuubi himself, an increasing agitation, a ferocity there that actually surprised Sasuke.

Naruto being so defensive on his behalf, that he understood, was even used to by now, but to this extent, it didn't...

Yet when he looked to Kyuubi, when he gave the slightest questioning nudge, his magic still responding to Kyuubi, reaching out to keep him calm, Kyuubi wouldn't explain what about Orochimaru had angered him, either. He only gave an impatient tug in response, only sought from him assurance, echoing what Naruto was already asking aloud.

_Answer, Sachi. You need to tell us._

There was noise, surrounding him words, not conversation, someone trying to get their attention, but Sasuke only watched him, watched _them_, nearly frowned, nearly swayed, still leaning into the hands resting careful against his cheeks.

"...I'm fine. He didn't do anything to me."

Naruto dropped his hands, dropped his head, eyes squeezed shut, breathed in deep. He heaved a sigh, heavy with the fall of shoulders, as he opened his eyes, again breathed in, raising his head to meet Sasuke's expectant gaze.

"Okay, then, that's...it's okay."

"...Naruto?"

"...you're okay."

However it involved Orochimaru, whatever it was that worried Naruto enough to actually scare him, to worry even Kyuubi, Sasuke's best guess is that it's probably what worried everyone else, too, but it apparently seemed to be yet another one of those things they also didn't believe he needed to be told.

Being kept in the dark about certain matters, the idea that it's for his own good, it may have been reasonable when he was younger, but he doesn't think it'll do him much good in the long run. It's not like he can stay secluded forever. And he doesn't want to be. He doesn't want to have to live in a predetermined bubble for the rest of his life.

Some many things are already out of his reach, before he even had a chance to try to pursue anything, all the opportunities he used to look forward to, everything he once wanted to be, taken away from him seemingly overnight, because he was put in a position where he didn't amount to much more than his status as a life user.

He tries not to let that define who he is, although if there's one thing his life magic and empathy have been good for, it's the ability to sense another person's intent, allowing him to discern from emotions what feels right or wrong, so, meeting Orochimaru, while he could recognise the situation for what it was, he knew nothing would happen.

And, ultimately, nothing did happen. Orochimaru didn't try to do anything. No reason to think anything else of it.

Despite what everyone seems to believe, it's not like he intentionally ran into Orochimaru. In actuality, it was Orochimaru apparently searching for him, which was an entirely different issue altogether, but the matter of whether Orochimaru would've still approached him if he'd stayed in the room, actually stayed near Naruto like he was supposed to, it's a moot point, because _nothing happened_.

And yet it's the same point he's been trying to stress since Naruto brought him to their parents, and told them his version of events, which didn't do anything to help Sasuke's case.

After returning to Nagi, he still hasn't been able to convince anyone, least of all his brother, who had his own set of apparent misgivings about the situation, more so due to the fact he wasn't able to attend the summit; unlike their parents, his presence hadn't been requested, so it wasn't his place to make an appearance at such a high profile event, without an invitation hadn't been extended to him.

Instead, he accepted a mission off world, said he'd being going along with Sai and Neji, two of his friends Sasuke once only knew in passing, but recently reintroduced as safe adults, which was pretty significant because not only were trusted with knowing the extent of Sasuke's abilities, they were also trusted with knowing about Naruto and Kyuubi, too.

Yet his brother's inability to attend the summit, because Sasuke knows how his brother tends to think, because his brother has always been so adamant in regards to ensuring his safety, although Itachi may not be as apparent about it, in some way, he probably does fault himself for this, but Sasuke didn't mean to make him worry him.

He's not trying to be a burden. Lately, however, more and more, it seems like that's all he'll ever be.

"Why didn't you stay with Naruto?"

"Nii-san, I—"

"You were told to stay with Naruto."

"Everything was fine. I was just—"

"Repeatedly. You were told to stay with Naruto. Something that's not new to you, something that shouldn't even have to be repeated. And yet you still chose not to listen."

The lack of inflection in his brother's voice, the lack of expression on his face, there's nothing to convey what he's feeling, not even the slightest hint towards the kind of frustrated anger Sasuke had partly been expecting, although the lingering sense of disappointment he can make out in between, that's far worse than any overt display of emotion.

"What difference does it make if nothing happened? I didn't even go that fa—"

"I don't want to hear it, Sasuke—that's not an excuse. You're old enough to know better, and I expect better of you."

"Then, why is it always like this? Everyone's always making decisions for me, never letting me do anything on my own, so why can't I just—"

"Because you continue with this kind of behaviour. You continue to engage in this level of immaturity, and you continue to prove yourself irresponsible."

"But how is that irresponsible, if I already I knew nothing would happen? He wasn't going to do anything to me—he _didn't_ do anything. That guy, Orochimaru—"

The mere name brings a cold glint to his brother's eyes, a cold that has nothing to do with his magic, almost chilling, immediately gives Sasuke pause, brings attention to the hard set of his brother's jaw.

It's the first time he's ever seen his brother like this, and that alone speaks volumes. After a seemingly simple encounter with Orochimaru, that just the mention of Orochimaru's name could elicit this kind of reaction from his brother, obviously, there's a reason for it—what everyone's refusing to tell him, the same topic of discussion that's already been decided he doesn't need to know, so he doesn't even bother to ask.

Not this time.

His brother's expression is quick to settle, however, gaze only slightly narrowed, acute, the fine line of his brother's mouth drawn a little less tight, features turned closer towards indifference, deceptively aloof, giving nothing more away.

Arms held at his sides, Sasuke lightly tugs at the front of his jacket, flexes his fingers as the outside of the pocket sleeve slips between the lightweight material of his gloves. He breathes out, lips pursed, sat on the edge of his low bed, forces himself not to fidget, forces himself to look up into dark eyes that so closely resemble his own.

"...with my empathy, with my magic, if I knew something was wrong, I wouldn't have left the room. I would've stayed closer to Naruto. Because I would've known if—"

"No, Sasuke. You couldn't have known. As it is, you still rely entirely too much on your empathy, yet as often as you like to claim, you can't definitively know these kinds of things. There is _always_ the possibility that something may go wrong, because there will always remain the possibility that a situation may fall beyond your control, a situation where you may be alone—where I won't be able to protect you—and I need you to realise the importance of that."

"But I _did_ know. Because of my magic, I—"

"_Sasuke_."

His life magic, that's what it always goes back to. It's become a point of contention between them, between him and everyone, how much he really does rely on his magic. Too many times, he's been accused of being too flippant with his magic, more than once has been told that far too often he takes for granted an apparent ease that even some of the most experienced magic users will never achieve.

But as much as he doesn't want it to define him, he can't escape the fact that his magic's become such an intricate part of him, evolved alongside his empathy, how naturally it really does come to him, something he's not able to help, as instinctive as breathing, as much an involuntary response, within his very being, a state of _existing_— the way it's always been, the way he knows it'll always be, a reassuring constant, his magic simply _is_.

Not surprisingly, whenever he does try to explain that aspect of his magic, it doesn't go over well. While in general magic is typically described as an extension of its user, when he thinks of his magic, despite having such an abnormal development, he actually struggles to remember a time without it, has trouble describing what it felt like before he even had empathy.

Because there are so many things now, things he somehow just seems to _know_, presented before him, so many once seemingly impossible things, suddenly in his mind the most improbable notions—things that simply are, what he still hasn't been able to put into words, this inherent awareness of things that have gone, have already come, things that will never pass, and things that have yet to be.

It's always been so easy to succumb to, an ever-present hum, that powerful a compulsion, the more he feels, that much harder to resist the soothing lull of his magic, when it starts to take over him.

He's been told to be more conscientious, not just by Iyashi, over and over already told to try harder, to be more cognisant of what he allows his magic to do.

But he's been trying.

He _is_ trying.

So, why can't anyone see that?

Why can't they understand he just...

Before he had magic, no one really knew what to do with him, and now that he has life magic, it's just a variation of the same thing.

But he didn't ask to be a life user.

He didn't ask for any of this.

He never wanted to be _this_.

He didn't want to be...

He only wanted to be like his brother, like Naruto, like seemingly every single person around him, people who actually had empathy, who actually had magic—he just wanted to be what he grew up seeing as _normal_.

Born into the Uchiha family, coming from a line renowned for having above average empathy and having an exceptional number of magic users, as the second son of Mikoto and Fugaku, as Itachi's little brother, he'd shown no promise. By the time he was seven, despite his parents' and his brother's attempts to placate him, reassure him there was nothing wrong with not having magic, in the face of his family's achievements, in the shadow of his brother's genius, he couldn't help but feel like a disappointment.

The bar had already been set high, and not only did he fall short, he didn't even have magic. He was nothing that anyone had been expecting, already written off as a lost cause by some of his extended family, a group of more outspoken relatives who purposely distanced themselves from him—distancing themselves from his mom and dad, too, and even from his brother, referencing his lack of magic to imply disparaging things about them.

But at least then it didn't feel so much like everyone treated him like he was made of porcelain, like they were just waiting, watching with bated breath, anticipating the next time when he'd again break.

With Iyashi, he'd been given hope, despite knowing his next empathetic attack was inevitable, only predictable in the sense it was always lurking around the corner, but those sessions helped him believe he wouldn't have to be like that forever, that his empathy was something he'd eventually be able to overcome—something he thought he did overcome—and it kept him going, no longer out of his reach, this once unthinkable idea that with time things eventually would get better, whatever everybody always kept telling him.

After coming so far, to just go back to the way he used to be, he couldn't do it—he wouldn't.

Not even Naruto knows how bad it used to be. He may have an idea, may be able to put a lot more things together now, but Sasuke never wanted Naruto to see that part of him, the extent of how much his empathy would affect him, because he didn't want Naruto to start treating him the way everyone else was.

During his early sessions with Iyashi, before Iyashi settled on how to approach teaching him about emotional barriers, most of the exercises they did revolved around helping him develop healthy coping skills, giving him different ways to address his emotions.

They practiced a lot of mindfulness, both to increase his mental acuity, and to get him to a place where he'd feel more comfortable outwardly expressing what he felt, because the goal was to assure him it'd be okay to show his emotions.

But Sasuke couldn't stand to let anyone see him cry.

After his empathy, that was one of the first things he promised himself, that he wouldn't cry anymore.

Yet it's a promise he hasn't always been able to keep.

That last time isn't so far removed, but so many instances, the part of him he tried his best not to let Naruto see, all those times he broke his own promise, when he'd cry seemingly at random, for no apparent reason at all.

Like his empathetic attacks, he didn't know when to expect it. Unlike his empathetic attacks, though, he wasn't in any physical pain.

Whether it was out of anger, or sadness, or childish frustration, he could never pinpoint where the tears came from, rarely understood it, whenever the emotion did hit, but, in the middle of whatever he'd been doing, he would just stop. It'd take him a moment to realise at first, when the increasingly familiar burn began to build behind his eyes, churn from the back of his throat, as his vision became less and less clear.

He remembers once, during one of his brother's increasingly less common visits, when the four of them were sat at the table for table, eating together like a family again. One moment he was holding his spoon, smiling at his brother, over something his brother said, and then suddenly he stilled, sat there frozen, gaze lowered as he stared at his soup.

The grip of his fingers turned loose, he dropped his spoon. It missed the bowl, completely missed the table, fell abruptly to the floor, loud enough to startle him, when he realised everyone else's attention was already on him.

As embarrassing as it was for him, it was just as uncomfortable for his parents and his brother, too. No one knew how to approach him. No one really knew what to do. At first, the concern from his parents had felt near drowning, when they immediately came to his side, but they learned to be patient with him. While he couldn't expect them to dismiss their concern, he asked if they could just wait for those kinds of moments to pass, because eventually the tears did stop.

With the back of his hand, he made a hasty wipe at his face, sniffed, tried to clean up the marks drying along both cheeks, streaked beneath his chin, sniffed again, as he bent down to pick up the spoon that had fallen to the floor.

When he sat up, his mom was already prepared, from the extra set of silverware they kept at the table, offering him another spoon.

He wasn't hungry anymore, but his parents were eating again. His brother was eating again. Everyone was talking again. It felt like things had gone back to some semblance of normal.

And he'd say he was okay, even if he really wasn't, but he knew he would be.

It happened with his care team, too, even Kushina and Minato a few times, but he never wanted Naruto to see him cry. Naruto wasn't allowed to see him like that. He still can't let Naruto see him like that—he couldn't.

The act of crying, on its own, he's knows there's nothing with wrong it, because he's even seen Naruto cry before, but with Naruto it's different. He doesn't have life magic. In fact, he has Kyuubi. And as sentimental as Naruto is, for him to get emotional, it doesn't mean the same thing, because that's just the kind of person he is.

Yet even without Kyuubi, even taking into account Naruto's considerable level of sensitivity, well beyond what's recorded for his annual Registration, no one would ever think someone like Naruto to be so...

He's not Naruto. For him to cry, it's that much more damning, because it means he can't handle his own emotions. To be so easily overwhelmed by his empathy, it means what everyone else says about him is true, because it's the one thing it feels like they're always expecting him to do.

How susceptible he is to his own empathy, how many times he's already fallen prey to his magic before, despite the strength of his emotional shields, even now, he still has to live with that uncertainty, will always have to live what that uncertainty, because there's nothing to guarantee another attack won't happen again.

And for what?

Having life magic doesn't bring him any closer to being like his brother. Even with his elemental magic, he's nothing like his brother, nothing like Naruto, nothing like seemingly everyone else around him.

He doesn't regret being a life user, wouldn't trade his magic for anything, but it doesn't translate into the miraculous feat people want to make it seem.

Above anything else, even his shadow magic, healing is what comes most naturally to him. And yet, in order to heal someone, he has to give his own life force, and that comes with plenty of issues on its own. Namely the fact he doesn't have the stamina or reserves to perform consistently the kind of life-saving magic people tend to associate with life users, especially on people his magic isn't familiar with, and certainly not without the very high risk of killing himself in the process.

If Naruto tapping him on the shoulder appeared to be the catalyst for his empathy, then Shisui dying was the catalyst for his life magic.

Waking up beside a motionless Shisui, a Shisui unbearably quiet, so frighteningly still, lying on his back, eyes blank staring at the sky, he still doesn't remember what happened before, how they even ended up by the river—but he remembers think his hands were too small to hold Shisui's face, even though he didn't realise what he was trying to do, couldn't possibly understand, as the warmth was drained from his body.

Vaguely, does he remember when his brother appeared, vaguely remembers his brother calling his name, being taken into his brother's arms, when his brother ripped apart the only link keeping Shisui alive, forcibly pulled him away from a dying Shisui he'd been trying to save.

If it weren't for his brother, if his brother hadn't found them when he did, if his brother hadn't intervened, maybe Shisui would still be here.

Maybe not.

That, he'll never know, but he does know he would've died trying to save him.

Although he didn't fully understand it at the time, didn't understand why it was getting colder, why it was becoming harder and harder to breathe, he still felt it, some part of him having already accepted it, felt it creeping upon him as he drew closer, after the initial discomfort had passed, a peaceful lull in the back of his mind grown louder, as his body grew colder—because in that moment he only was doing what felt natural to do, following an instinctual pull, compelled to fix the sudden appearance of so many holes and tears outlined throughout the slowly moving paths along Shisui's body, giving nearly all of his life force to overlay that inherent sense of _wrong_.

He wonders sometimes, though, if it were anyone else who'd found them by the river, even his parents, even Naruto, wonders if it would've been enough to finally draw his magic away from Shisui, if his magic would've latched on to anyone else as quickly, despite the familiarity already there, how his empathy seemed to have responded to his brother near instantaneously, drawn toward his brother's _hurt_, the way he reacted instinctively, if that was what ultimately saved him.

He was barely alive by then, barely breathing, wrapped in his brother's jacket, as his brother held him trembling, because his body wouldn't stop shivering, as his consciousness slipped further away—barely did he register being lifted, his body being moved, barely registered the warmth from the hand placed over his cheek, and yet for the first time felt so clearly his brother's emotions, the depth of the bond between them, in those few seconds fleeting, could practically hear his brother's silent pleading.

Never before had he seen his brother so afraid, because his brother had always seemed this immovable force, in his eyes this perfect image, a constant source of calm, so often appeared near unflappable, the epitome of everything their family stood for, everything Sasuke still wished he could be.

Because he still hasn't forgotten how close his brother and Shisui were, remembers trying to follow them, being worried his brother no longer had time for him, despite how much Shisui liked to tease him about something so silly, despite how times his brother apologised for having to spend so much away from him, remembers wondering if that meant one day his brother wouldn't need him

Because sometime it feels like he made his brother choose.

And sometimes, he can't ignore the part of him that already knows he'll never be able to make up for being the one his brother chose.

Even if he tried to, he doesn't think he'd be able to forget the look on his brother's face that day.

But the concern he can read in his brother's eyes now, it's a still far cry from devastation he'd actually felt from his brother then, despite the near whisper of his brother's low timbre, solidified in his mind the anguish in his brother's eyes, his brother's gaze torn between them, when Shisui wouldn't answer, when Shisui wouldn't _move_.

"If I'd known about Orochimaru, I wouldn't have..."

His brother quiets him with a single look, another silent reprimand, but this time Sasuke falters at the flimsy-sounding excuse, as the words leave him, closes his eyes, lowers his head, hands clenched into fists at his sides, pressing into the bed.

"Do you not understand the gravity of the situation? Walking away from Naruto, did it not occur to you, the risk you were taking by willingly placing yourself in that kind of position?"

"I..."

Seemingly at odds with everything he's suffered through, despite how drastically his life has changed, all the things he can no longer do, it really doesn't occur to him to question his magic. It's become a comforting presence, something that's hard to imagine himself without, because it's shown him how to be strong in a different way, provided him with a power he could finally call his own.

Now that he has that, and he's in a place where he's able to do more with it, he just...

With how much he's come to rely on his life magic, because it's still traditionally a considered passive ability, because he actually prefers his healing and empathy over his elemental magic, he's still worried about being perceived as incapable of doing certain things.

Despite his best efforts, it seems like even Naruto's started to treat him differently. The careful way Naruto will look at him sometimes, how much more hesitant Naruto seems about some of the things they've always done before, about the closeness they've shared since seemingly forever—of course it gets to him.

He may not be allowed to use his elemental magic, not outside of extenuating circumstances, but he's not defenceless. Although there aren't many people his parents have allowed to be close enough to teach him, much less allowed to know about his elemental magic, at the very least, he's been taught basic combat skills; he knows enough by now to feel comfortable sparring with Naruto, and even with how much Naruto will intentionally hold back, even against Naruto's magic, he can still hold pretty well his own.

Not to mention, his brother's finally teaching him how to wield a sword. In between missions, he somehow finds the time to return home, after Sasuke's private lessons, gradually working towards more intermediate techniques with a practice sword, before he's ready to move on to the kind of retract sword he could use to channel his elemental magic.

That doesn't make him the most well-versed in self-defence, but it's a start. Overall, he still needs to work on increasing his stamina, although he's been able to work on his coordination, too. He even gets to put to good use all the technical knowledge about ships he's picked up, as close he can get to actually flying, borrowing Naruto's access codes, to clock in his own hours in the flight simulator chamber, the few times he's been allowed to go so far.

Compared to the considerable toll it used to take on him, with his magic and empathy, how useless he once felt, despite the fact he still has to wear his gloves, he's been making progress.

He thought he was making progress.

It's been nearly a year since his last major episode, since Yuna.

He still has small episodes here and there, nothing so debilitating, but still those instances where he does have to be more attentive to his surroundings, more wary of the number of people around him, even though that number usually tended to be mostly magic users, because even he knows better than to push the boundaries of the shields he's carefully built over time.

For the most part, though, he hasn't really needed his brother or Naruto nearby. Depending on his own emotional barriers, it feels like that's finally become enough.

And yet what happened at Yuna...

Out of all his more recent episodes, none of them came even remotely close to the severity of that one, the kind of pain he hadn't felt in _years_, without any sort of warning, to be so emotionally overwhelmed, to the point of actually passing out, the sort of empathetic attack he had truly believed was finally behind him—but it felt like he was seven again, during the worst his empathy had ever been, like he'd just gotten it for the first time all over again.

He was with his parents, already past the main security gate, looking forward to his first time going off world, even though it was more of a work-related occasion, and they were only visiting a neighbouring sector, suddenly, he just started screaming, collapsed on the spot, made a public spectacle of himself, despite mom's attempts to calm him, wouldn't stop screaming until he finally blacked out.

His parents ended up having to delay their trip, again ending up having to call his brother while he was in the middle of a mission, although they decided to keep him home, instead of taking him back to Reife.

He was out for a while, a few days, and yet even unconscious, he wouldn't let anyone near him; still being affected by his empathy, he'd flinch if even his care team came too close, on the verge of hyperventilating, nearly drove himself into fits, how violently he reacted to actual touch.

His reaction to his parents, that was relatively tame, but it wasn't until his brother arrived, that his empathy seemed to have stabilised enough for him to wake up.

Somehow, before he could fully process that he was back at home, back in his own room, he'd already known his brother wasn't far away— before his eyes were even open, his mind unbearably sluggish, still near consciousness, lying in a large bed, lying beneath thick blankets on top of him piled too many, he already knew his brother was _there_.

As he slowly came to, seemingly the only thought in his mind, as awareness came slowly, as the memories began to fall into place, when he opened his eyes, when his hands struggled to shove aside the blankets covering him, when he could finally see—saw his brother asleep, sat in a chair pulled close beside him, a chair that somehow looked too small for him, head lolled to the side, stretched uncomfortably close to his shoulder, and yet the slight movement from the bed was all it took to wake him, as his brother began to sit up, blinking, fallen from his lips the soft murmur of _Otouto_ that immediately compelled Sasuke forward.

At the sound of his brother's voice, he all but ran across the bed, on shaky legs, ran toward the sight of his brother already gone blurry, fell to his hands and knees, nearly fell into the gap between, before he stumbled into arms that were already reaching out to catch him.

He attached himself to his brother's warmth, swathed in a discrete cold that always kept him warm, fingers gripping the back of his brother's shirt, air taken in through harsh shudders, breaths hitched from his chest, as he tried to keep his brother close, pulling himself closer, hiding his face against his brother's shoulder.

It was suffocating.

His own emotions were suffocating.

Everything just _hurt_.

He didn't want to be that little kid anymore, the one who always needed someone to hold his hand, but he was tired of always, _always_ feeling too much.

For a moment, his felt his shields fall, for the briefest second, felt his brother turn stiff, felt him nearly stagger, but his brother didn't let go. His brother continued to hold him, pulled Sasuke tighter against him, breath drawn out long with a sigh.

His brother didn't ask if he was all right, didn't tell him everything was going to be okay.

But he didn't need words—he didn't want words. For once, he just wanted to be close to his brother, as he closed eyes against the damp material of his brother's shirt, as he tried to ignore the growing tightness in his chest, found quiet in his brother's arms that kept him safe, helped keep everything else away, because he couldn't _keep anything in_.

And his brother didn't say anything, either, just held him, until he exhausted himself back to sleep.

The next day, he learned his parents had already made an appointment for him to see Iyashi, but he didn't want to go. He didn't want to talk him, didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to have to feel anything anymore.

Naruto even offered to go with him, offered sit on a session like he used to, but Sasuke didn't want that, either.

When Naruto came over, he almost half-expected Naruto to say I told you so, to remind him that he has _reasons_ to worry about him, but Naruto only tried to convince him to see Iyashi.

But, like he'd told Naruto, it was humiliating. And it still is, to a certain extent, because he knows the looks he receives now, the extra care people take around him, seemingly afraid to upset him, he knows a lot of is due to what happened at Yuna, how sensitive he is to his empathy, something he no longer has the luxury of hiding.

It was one thing to suffer an attack at home, or at the hospital, when he was confined to the ward, but to experience an episode in public, his magic leaving him that vulnerable, so suddenly exposed...

Iyashi put forward the theory that it could've been brought on by fluctuating hormones, not dissimilar to sudden uptick in their empathy levels magic users typically experience around his age, although, of course, nothing on Sasuke's scale.

So far, it seems like it was just a fluke. One unfortunate stroke of bad luck, that's what everyone keeps saying, that it doesn't have to be a setback.

Yet it was something that had nearly taken everything away from him, at the time, seemed to negate, if not completely undo all the progress he'd made.

And for Iyashi to even suggest the onset of hormones could've been responsible for such an abrupt episode, that it was enough to throw him so off-kilter, to revert his empathy to its default state, without any barriers, to return him to his already amplified level of sensitivity, it terrified him.

Because he thought he'd finally grown past that.

He was supposed to be better by now.

Everything's supposed to be better now.

He's not...

"...Sasuke."

He hears his brother shift, listens to the rustle of fabric, as he feels displaced the air in front of him. Fingers no longer digging into his palms, he relaxes his fists, opens his eyes, slowly raises his head to see his brother kneeled before him.

"...that man could've _hurt_ you, Sasuke. He could've seriously—"

His brother looks away, mouth a firm line, eyes closed. He breathes in softly, opens his eyes to look at Sasuke.

Although the concern's still there, his brother remains calm, inscrutable, a force once again immovable, his gaze near impenetrable, a stark foil, with an innate sense control over his emotions that rivalled, if not surpassed Sasuke's own—after all this time, this image of his brother still seemingly infallible, everything Sasuke already knows he'll never be.

Dark eyes begin to soften, reflect the gentle side of his brother he's always known, as he's gathered in his brother's arms, held carefully to his close brother's chest.

"Nii-san, I..."

But there's nothing wrong with his empathy.

"Sasuke."

There's nothing wrong with his magic.

"I just..."

Because there's nothing wrong with him.

He feels his body sag, lets himself sink further into the familiarity of his brother's cold that somehow always manages to leave him warm. He closes his eyes, slowly raises his arms to return his brother's embrace, reaches out with his empathy, fingers clutching the back of his brother's jacket, his voice a soft murmur against his brother's shoulder, as he tries to reassure him the only way he knows how.

"...I'm fine."


	6. VI 'Til the Stars Get on the Fame

_At fourteen, he's the product of new relationships and new responsibilities, the opportunity to train and the chance at a more normal life, but although Sasuke's come a long way from what he used to be, a long way from the weak little kid he couldn't stand to be, the faster he runs, the farther away everything ahead of him seems to become, and as much as he doesn't want to look back, it still feels like he'll always be left behind._

...

**VI. 'Til the Stars Get on the Fame (Joker Remix)**

Before that first peace summit between the Alliance and the Federation, before the whole fiasco with Orochimaru, just the thought of being able to have a sparring session with Naruto, the idea of being allowed to train at all, no matter how many times he'd tried to convince his parents and his brother how capable he'd grown in his abilities, it was simply out of the question.

After developing his empathy and his life magic, any activity his parents or his brother deemed even remotely strenuous, often times the most seemingly normal kinds of interactions, something as trivial as being able to go to school, or even going to the convenience store, just being able to go out on his own, it was no longer an option.

Granted, after developing empathy and life magic, he'd been mostly confined to Reife for those first two and a half years, because he couldn't mentally or physically handle being close to other people, and his reactions were severe enough that he continued to require almost constant medical supervision, despite the progress he was making with Iyashi.

Even after being released from the ward, and especially after discovering his life magic, he discovered that were a lot of things he just couldn't do.

Although he didn't really comprehend the series of changes happening at the time, on some level, he did realise the people around him growing fewer, in such a short time, the world around having grown so much smaller, but never could he have imagined just how small his world would become.

It wasn't so bad at nine, though, when he was still hesitant about being around people he didn't know, when he was much more dependent on Naruto, before he began to fully grasp the extent of the restrictions placed on him as a life user, for his own personal safety and what was actually mandated by law.

Even now, at fourteen, he still hasn't really had the opportunity to get out much, to do the kinds of extracurricular activities considered normal for kids his age; his appointments with Iyashi don't count, and the occasional appearance he's had to make with his parents, either at private or public affairs, for the sake of social obligations, the kind that don't exactly adhere to the idea of normal he's been striving for.

The majority of his time has been spent studying, since he's pretty much been homeschooled for the most part, with a steady stream of private instructors who taught through supervised video conferencing, rarely allowed to teach him in person.

Apart from what's established in the curriculum, he studies whatever material he can get his hands on. Essentially, it serves as independent study, which allows him to delve further into the military-related subjects he's more interested in, the kinds of things usually covered in the notoriously rigorous courses taught at Nagi's Academy, geared towards trainees on the flight track, that aren't offered to underage civilians.

Eventually, he wants to use it towards credit hours for college-level courses, for whatever he may decide to do after high school, although lately he's been concentrating more on his own personal research, trying to follow up on already heavily scattered magic lore and what little is known on record about life users, while hoping he's not being to be too obvious in his attempts to learn different elemental magic techniques in between.

(If it were up to his parents, he'd probably spend the rest of his life studying, because they'd rather him pursue an academic career after high school, although it's not like there's much else he's been able to do.

And he knows he's smart. It's not arrogant to say he probably would've been accepted into the Academy on his own merit, even cast under the shadow of his brother's brilliance.

After all that time spent trying to live vicariously through Naruto, staying up to read Naruto's assigned texts, helping Naruto understand whatever concepts he was struggling with, doing his absolute best to make sure at least one of them still got to keep their dream, the few times he'd taken the simulated variation of the preliminary entrance exam, consistently, he ranked close among the highest scores in the Academy's history.

Though, for all his attempts to prove he wasn't useless, in the end, it didn't matter much, considering the simulation wasn't designed to keep records of the results, and it was just the knowledge portion, anyway. Never mind that legally he's not allowed to even register to take the preliminary exam, on the off chance that his parents would actually let him.

But even with the other components, he knows he could've passed those, too. He's raised his physical strength and endurance. His level of mental acuity is probably the one thing he'll ever have over his brother and Naruto, so he wouldn't be hindered by his empathy, either, and even with his lack of reserves for elemental magic, as long as he chose one of his better affinities, he knows he would've done well.

Despite being a life user, he's a lot more competent in ways it sometimes feels like no one wants to give him credit for. He's not that weak. Not anymore. It's just...

He's not his brother or Naruto.

Being forced to watch from the sidelines, settling with being content, having to sit out while Naruto continues to move closer and closer towards achieving his dream, he doesn't blame Naruto for being able to go where he can't follow, but if he didn't have empathy, if he didn't have any kind of magic at all, then, maybe...

Maybe it would've meant more, once upon a time, all those moments he and Naruto shared before, huddled together on that small little bed in the ward, fallen into seemingly endless conversation, those days of playing with Naruto's model ships, filled with hushed excitement, whispering to each other promises of someway flying among the stars, whispers of shared dreams that became cherished secrets held between only the two of them.

_"Even with your empathy, it won't always be like this, you know. When we grow up, when we get old enough to get into the Academy, I'll wait for you, and then we're going to go chase the stars."_

_"...the two of us, you really think..."_

_"...yeah. Yeah, me and you, we're going to race each other up there one day."_

Those were the kinds of things Naruto would never fail to promise him then, but now, facing Naruto's back, having to watch Naruto from behind...

Of course, he wants Naruto to succeed. Even for his sake, he'd never ask Naruto to sacrifice his own ambitions. He'd never ask Naruto to give up on the person he's trying to become, and it'd be the worst kind of insult, if Naruto ever gave up on his dreams, out of some misplaced, soppy sentiment, because it'd just be a hollow attempt to make him feel better.

His brother's already given up so much for him. He can't let Naruto do that, too.

He knows he's still inexperienced about a lot of things, through the spread of indiscriminate rumours, knows how quickly too many people still tend to paint him as some helpless child with far too delicate sensibilities, to the extent he couldn't possibly be expected to function in public without his parents or his brother to guide him, but he doesn't want to think he's that selfish.

As much as he worries about being left behind, he doesn't need someone there to hold his hand wherever he goes—he's not that overly sensitive kid anymore. He doesn't need to depend on Naruto to make everything better, and he's not going to let his situation become something that could hold Naruto back.

The fact the he ended up being a life user, that's not Naruto's fault, so there's no reason to begrudge Naruto for any of it.

Because he's not jealous of Naruto.

He's not.)

With most of his time structured around his studies or his appointments with Iyashi, there's very little to break the usual monotony, but he's used to how things are now. It's been part of his routine for so long, that there really isn't much to say about it, other than this is the life he's come to know.

He should only be so lucky he doesn't have to live in any kind of solitary confinement. Those days stuck in Reife, he really did struggle with the scale of isolation, and while he's never been a particularly social person, anyway, it was still hard to adjust to the abrupt lack of interaction with other people.

Like any other kid, he'd made friends from school, mostly the kids whose families his mom and dad already knew. He had no shortage of extended family members to rely on, either, however relatively small a group they were, cousins and aunts and uncles, the ones who hadn't initially shunned him for his then apparent lack of empathy and magical ability, especially Shi—

Ironically, he finds himself just as ostracised with all the attention drawn towards him being a life user. Yet, for all the times he's ever felt alone, at the very least, he can say he's never truly been alone. He's always had his brother and his parents. He's always had Naruto and Kushina and Minato. And, slowly but surely, that once small circle of people around him is starting to grow.

He'll admit it can still feel a little overwhelming, if he allows himself to dwell too much on all the fanciful what-ifs and his now seemingly pointless dreams, but, overall, he does want to believe things are finally getting better.

Itachi offering to take him in, that's helped, too. His brother stepping down at the height of his own military career, allowing him to live on base, while Naruto's enrolled in the Academy, he'll never be able to express how truly grateful he is for that, for how much his brother chose to give up, in order to give him the chance to have a more normal life.

His parents have since become more agreeable to the idea, gradually allowing him a greater degree of independence; he still can't go very far on his own, only places within a suitable walking distance, but it means he can run small errands for Itachi, pick up groceries from the commissary around the corner, even go to the library on base without being openly chaperoned, if he ignores the unseen security detail that follows him, at least giving him the illusion of being alone.

(Even with his brother's support, initially, his parents were critical of Itachi's decision. Where Itachi had been living before, although it had plenty of security, it wasn't what his parents were comfortable with, the kind of complex that offered single-person living arrangements, intended to be an anonymous, interim residence for members who were temporarily stationed at Nagi, usually in between orders, and, in his brother's case, off-world duty tours.

However, Itachi had already been planning his move into the old barracks, simply waiting for renovations to finish, because the area was being rebranded for certain essential, high-ranked personnel, and would eventually become one of the more heavily secured locations, in what was already considered one of the most secure bases throughout the entire Alliance.

The renovations were only finished a few months ago, with the apartment-style housing much more moderate in size than his home near the Capital, but it's still really nice. However, because Itachi still has responsibilities, he only gets to stay there two or three days every other week, but, if he was lucky, those days would also coincide with Naruto's ability to visit, and it's something he really could get used to, sharing this small little space with his brother he's already started to think of as _home_.

It won't be a permanent move any time soon. His parents have only agreed to it on a conditional basis, his stays with Itachi being somewhat transitional in nature, as long as he continues to show he's able to behave in a mature capacity.)

Following his encounter with Orochimaru, he wasn't sure about being able to live with Itachi. That probably should've been the least of his worries at the time; if anything, it seemed to further convince his parents that living on base would be a safer environment, and it's been going well so far.

As long as he continues to have no incidents and doesn't suffer another episode, he may be able to actually attend classes on campus soon, as early as next year, at the start of the new term.

It seems like such a simple thing, almost trivial, really, the kind of experience he never thought he'd take for granted, something that's managed to retain this sort of novelty, and yet it'll be the closest semblance of normal he's had in long time.

Already, it's been two years since his last major incident. Two years since what happened at Yuna, where he had his most recent empathetic attack.

Since developing his empathy, it was the first time he was leaving Nagi, the first time he was travelling off world with his parents. That day, due to an unusual amount of delays, the spaceport had been busier than usual, prompting his parents to pull him even closer, his mom placing an arm around him, but it didn't seem like anything he couldn't handle.

Each time his mom asked if he was okay, he said he was fine. And he was. A little wary, maybe, as he fidgeted with his newly-issued passport, but only because it was his first opportunity to test his shields against a crowd of that magnitude, of mostly non-magic users. Yet there was nothing that felt off with his empathy, nothing to even hint at what would eventually come.

Before they could board, however, before they even reached the main security checkpoint at the gate, seemingly out of nowhere, he had an empathy attack.

To have that kind of breakdown in public, with so many people watching him, recording him, just knowing that the footage is still out there for anyone to see, while time hasn't made it any less humiliating, it didn't become the setback he once believed it'd prove to be.

After he lost consciousness, instead of taking him to Reife, though, his parents had agreed it'd be better to let him recover at home, which Iyashi had advised, as well. Later, he woke up to his brother at his side, woke up with that same, near debilitating fear from uncertainty he thought he'd finally gotten over.

It took him a while to feel comfortable with his empathy again. At first, it really did feel like he'd relapsed, had regressed back to that muddled blur in time when he'd be in a constant state of unease, left to dread his next empathetic attack, because he already understood that it was inevitable.

Fortunately, what happened at Yuna seemed to be an isolated incident, something Iyashi ultimately attributed to changing hormones, a fluke more or less, since Iyashi declared there was nothing to indicate anything abnormal with his shields, and nothing he could immediately discern that would've affected his empathy development to such an extent.

Nonetheless, as a preventive measure, Iyashi scheduled more regular sessions and told his parents that he should have dailies again, for a minimum of two weeks, and until he could reach a more conclusive determination on Sasuke's mental and emotional states.

Despite his annoyance at having to go through dailies again, it was still better than having to go back to Reife. As a result, however, his parents were even more disinclined to let him do anything, much less let him out of their sight, preferring that he simply focus on studying, and generally avoid any situation that could present even the slightest possibility of him being overwhelmed by his empathy.

Considering everything he'd already put them through, he could see why they were so cautious, couldn't even say it was unwarranted, because it was difficult even for them do anything, without their every move being scrutinised.

He still can't understand why there continues to be such a vested interested in him. While he can't ignore the fact that life magic is the rarest form of magic, based on what's publically known about him, common knowledge based on what people have already assumed about his empathy and his healing ability, it seems like most people's curiosity should've died off at this point, although he believes the sustained interest probably has more to do with his family name, rather than solely with him as a life user.

Regardless, his parents have always done their best to protect him, even if protecting him sometimes means going against the interests of their family as a whole, and potentially threatening their own standing; though members of the main branch, they can only do so much, and the power of the Uchiha name can only carry them so far, even taking into account what he's seen of their combined political and social leverage, within both the Alliance and the magic user community.

But his parents aren't like his brother or Naruto, though. They've never had that immediate calming effect on him. With their presence alone, they've never been able to quiet his empathy, to suddenly make everything around him no longer _hurt_.

(Of course, it doesn't hurt to be near them anymore. They've long since become safe, and he's more than confident enough in his shields, that he doesn't flinch whenever his parents are too close, doesn't hesitate to accept the warmth from his mom's hand placed over his forehead, or the quiet relief from his dad's sometimes still too tentative hugs, a near palpable relief from just being able to hold him.)

All the same, dealing with the aftermath of his last empathetic attack, it was still frustrating. The way it felt everyone would look at him, kept treating him, as if any given moment, at any time, any little thing was liable to make him break.

He expected it from the people he didn't know, the ones who'd already made their assumptions about him, and the ones he'd tell himself he couldn't do anything about.

He expected the watchful stares from his parents and his brother. That was a given. From Kushina and Minato, too, and even from Sakura and Iyashi. With his history, he understood they were just trying to be prepared, and he could appreciate that. But it was so much worse with Naruto. It's always worse having to deal with that almost stifling sort of concern from Naruto.

Having to face a hesitant Naruto who clearly didn't want to upset him, like Naruto was too afraid to even hold his hand, when all Sasuke wanted to do, was simply be close to him, as close as they've always been, just the two of them, like so many times when he'd curl up against Naruto, during the aftermath of some of his worst episodes, when he so readily believed in Naruto's promises, already convinced by Naruto's easy assurances that everything really would be okay.

Except he didn't need that from Naruto.

He doesn't want to need it anymore.

He just...

Given the timing of the whole Yuna incident, on the matter of allowing him to have any sort of physical or magical training, his parents' past refusals made sense, despite the fact he had already reached the age where even magic users with low levels of empathy have the opportunity to receive at least some form of basic training, to help develop their magical ability.

The current issue with Orochimaru, however, in particular Orochimaru's ongoing fascination with him, including the continued attempts to make personal contact with him, is what ultimately drove his parents to reconsider. Surprisingly, or maybe not, it was on his brother's insistence, that his parents eventually agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly, it was necessary that he should learn at least some form of self-defence, so he'd be better prepared, if he were to find himself in that kind of situation again.

Not being allowed to train before, of course that didn't prevent him from experimenting on his own, or watching others, especially when it came to magic and exposing himself to different techniques; the rare opportunity he had to observe Naruto during private lessons with Kakashi, he didn't hesitate to take advantage of that, especially since Kakashi's the only lightning user he's actually been able to get close to.

What he's doing now, with his parents taking the time to help him strengthen his fire magic, finally allowing him to spar with Naruto, his brother even teaching him more about shadow magic and how to wield a sword, that's an entirely different matter altogether.

One of the prevailing reasons why training had never been an option before, his parents told him, point blank, is because of his empathy; his life magic hasn't been so much an issue lately, which he can credit to having to wear his gloves, but what happened at Yuna isn't so far removed, relatively speaking, and only helped solidify how unpredictable his empathy still has the potential to be.

It remains a serious cause for concern and won't change any time soon. Even after developing life magic, everything still seems to come back to his empathy, why his parents have always been so adamant about keeping him close, keeping him away from the public eye, kept him all but secluded from the outside world.

But even if that weren't the case, if he wanted to pretend his parents would've actually entertained the idea otherwise, he still wouldn't have been able to receive any traditional training, because there's the still the issue of finding people who could be trusted around him. It's already such a small list, the people who know about his life magic, his elemental magic, alongside the relationship between Kyuubi and Naruto, and his connection to them both—the more people who know, the more precarious the situation becomes, because it increases the risk of exposure.

Beyond that, among the few adults he's been able to view as safe, rarely has there been time to give him that kind of dedicated attention training requires, with little incentive to make time, when already established, much more effective safety measures had clearly taken a priority.

In effect, much of what he's learned about his own abilities, he discovered for himself.

As often as his brother likes to admonish him for being too flippant with his life magic, in his defence, he's only done what comes naturally to him. Without any conventional training to fall back on, he's been mostly left to his own devices—not counting how many times he's been told the idea of permission isn't something that's left up to interpretation. Naruto's already made it a point many times to disagree and correct what he calls an extremely faulty line of reasoning:

"No, Sasuke. No. That's not it at all. You just like to do things on your own without telling anyone because you're trying to send me to an early grave."

Naruto also likes to accuse him of being too curious for his own good, with an entirely too highly selective awareness of his surroundings, and maybe there is some truth to that, every time someone says he needs to be more attentive in certain situations, that he needs to put into perspective how his actions may affect those around him, but it's not that he means to appear so flippant about his life magic.

He just doesn't think it should be such a surprise that he relies so heavily on it, as intrinsic as his life magic is to his empathy, even if using it instead of his elemental magic means pulling from his own life force, because, just like when Orochimaru tried to corner him during the peace summit, if he already knows everything's going to be fine, then, really, he can't see the problem.

Except when it comes to trying to explain how he could possibly even know about something like that, he can sort of see the issue there. But it's actually not dissimilar to his compulsion to heal. It's something that simply is, before even him, already was, something he somehow just intuitively _knows_ will always be. That's the way he's come to think of it, although his parents and his brother aren't as lenient as they used to be, far from convinced every time he tries to describe how difficult it is to resist the pull of his own magic, because he's apparently past the age of being able to make excuses.

Up until he was ten, during that time was when he suffered the worst of it. Wearing specialised gloves had drastically cut down on the effect of those kinds of episodes, minimising the contact of bare skin, which meant practically having to live in his gloves, but he'd still have these instances where he would work himself up into a near fit, when someone was hurt—that someone usually being Naruto, and Sasuke's definition of hurt usually translating into an injury as minor as a paper cut on Naruto's finger, or the slightest scrape across Naruto's elbow or his knee, because Naruto's always been the kind of clumsy guy, who just so happens to often manage tripping over his own two feet.

Sometimes, even the thought of Naruto not being okay was enough to set him off. It wasn't necessarily something he cried over, because he still refused to let Naruto see him cry, but he remembers being terrified of the idea alone, vague, those moments it suddenly became harder and harder to breathe, turned frantic, reduced to pleading, when he'd end up shaking in Naruto's arms wrapped too tight around him, because so much more than his natural inclination to heal, it was an all-consuming need to do everything in his power to make sure Naruto no longer _hurt_.

_"Naruto, your arm..."_

_"My arm? What about my—oh, you mean this? Probably bumped into a wall or something earlier."_

_"...you're hurt."_

_"Nah, it's just a scratch. Nothing to—"_

_"But you're hurt. Naruto, you're—"_

_"Sasuke, don't—"_

_"If you're hurt, I have to fix it. You have to let me fix it, because you can't be hurt—you can't, Naruto. You can't be hurt. You ca—"_

_"Let me see your eyes. Look at—Sasuke, hey—hey, I'm right here, okay. Look at me. I'm right here." _

_"...Naruto, you..."_

_"See? I'm okay. I promise. I'm okay."_

(That feeling, it hasn't really gone away, hasn't truly abated, just doesn't come to him as often, but it still comes to him, this distant thought, unbelievable this notion, that one day something would ever happen to Naruto, that something could ever take Naruto away from him. It will, he thinks—no, he _knows_, except he doesn't, can't know, not now, this very hazy impression of a time before, a dim sensation, like drowning on air, as if he were falling, flailing just beneath the surface, what he scarcely understands, a time he still can't remember, buried in darkness, but a time that just _hurts—_

_Itstillhurtsithurtsitalwayshurts_.)

Fortunately, as embarrassing as those kinds of episodes were, they were rare, but between that and the seemingly random bouts of healing, most of the time, he didn't even remember it happening.

Always, his parents would make him see Iyashi afterward. As if his regular appointments weren't bad enough. During these more impromptu sessions, though, Iyashi would push him even harder to explore his feelings and work out his emotions.

And if Iyashi suspected those particular episodes had anything to do with what happened when Shisui died, while that wasn't a conversation he'd leave completely alone, it was one of the few topics Iyashi would approach with a little more care, rather than with his seemingly casual indifference.

It was a sensitive issue, still is to this day, and definitely contributed to those instances where he did panic about someone close to him being hurt, about not being able to save them, the same way he wasn't able to save Shisui—that anxiety was often amplified by his empathy, and would sometimes lead to the unintentional use of his life magic, even if there was nothing for him to actually heal.

_"Everybody keeps acting like I do it on purpose, but I don't. And I don't know how I'm supposed to control it. I can't even stop it. It just happens, but what does any of that even matter, when I can't do anything to change it? I don't understand why I have to keep talking about it over and over again."_

_"Because it's not enough for you to acknowledge your emotions. It's also important that you're able to acknowledge when you're feeling overwhelmed by them, so you'll be able to start recognising the differences between what may be considered a natural impulse for you, and what may be considered a panic-induced response to the situation you see yourself in." _

_"I know that already, Iyashi—I know, I know, but it's the same it's always been. I don't even realise I'm doing it. I just...you said it yourself. You said it's a compulsion. But why even call it that, if you're just expecting me to—"_

_"I only expect you to try. The exercises we do here, you need to continue—"_

_"I know I need to do them at home. I already do them at home. But even then, that's still not enough, because this isn't like my empathy—with my life magic, it's not like thinking about wearing a coat or counting buttons, or rolling up my sleeves, nothing like all the other things you taught me before, and it makes me feel like I'll never..."_

_"Sasuke."_

_"I can't..."_

_"Sasuke."_

_"I don't want to open my eyes."_

_"Why don't you want to open your eyes?"_

_"I'm fine. Everything's fine."_

_"If everything's fine, then you should be able to open your eyes."_

_"...I..."_

_"Take your time. Breathe."_

_"...I'm breathing. I can do it on my own."_

_"Keep breathing."_

_"...I am."_

_"Do you want to hold my hand?"_

_"...no. I don't need to."_

_"Do you want to lie down?"_

_"I'm okay now. My eyes just hurt a little."_

_"All right. Where are you on your scale?"_

_"...a four."_

The biggest hurdle with his life magic, whether he's using it to heal or not, has been the threat of magical exhaustion: what it means to overexert himself when using his magic, how quickly and easily he can reach that point, and how often he's come to nearly depleting his life force because of it.

It didn't take long to discover a direct correlation between his susceptibility to his empathy and the use of his life magic. Due to the intensity of his emotions, whenever it does become overwhelming, whenever he's emotionally or mentally drained, that seems to be a trigger for his magic to intervene, to act like a sort of defence mechanism, since it's always been easier to simply let his magic take over, made that much more difficult, trying to fight the soothing lull in the back of his mind—always, always he feels _too much, _and with his tendency to worry, it was concerning enough that it became integrated into his dailies, usually part of the first set of questions, asking if he was worried, because at times it really did seem like there was no distinction between his magic and his emotions, as if he were caught in a loop, trapped in a relentless, continually distorting feedback.

But that was years ago. While the default state of his empathy hasn't really changed, at least with his life magic, it doesn't affect him to nearly the same extent anymore. He's worked hard to get where he is now, spent seemingly a lifetime practicing to better his control, to better his stamina in spite of his limited reserves. And, as long as he's mindful about it, he can get away with healing a wider range of injuries without the more immediate risk of being taken over by his magic.

All the holes and tears he can see in someone's life force, using his own to fill in any provisional dead space, it's a much more conscious process, one he feels confident enough to initiate and something he doesn't even have to second-guess himself about.

_"Just let me see, Naruto. I haven't used my magic since yesterday, so I might as well use it to do this."_

_"Considering the kinds of situations you like to put me through, you don't need to use your magic at all. But I already told you. It doesn't even hurt that much. I can barely feel anything."_

_"You're saying that like it's actually a good thing."_

_"It's just a sprain. It'll go away."_

_"Give me your arm."_

_"If you're just going to force me into these things, the least you could do is work on your bedside manner."_

_"And if you're just going to keep complaining about it, the least you could do is hold still."_

_"Not if you're going to break it."_

_"I thought it was just a sprain?"_

_"It is. And I'm kind of trying to keep it that way."_

_"Then stop being such a baby already, and let me heal your wrist."_

_"I don't know why you can't just—"_

_"There. Was that so hard?"_

_"...you know, you keep saying it's because I was hurt, that's why you do it, but it's like I keep telling you, Sasuke. You don't need to waste your magic on me."_

_"But I'm not wasting my magic. Not if I'm using it to help you."_

_"Yeah, well...I still think it's really weird when your eyes do that."_

Despite how much he's improved, technically, he's only allowed to use his magic in extenuating circumstances, and only as a last resort (preferably his shadow magic, to hide himself until he could find help), which is also one of the stipulations he agreed to, when he was given the opportunity to live on base with Itachi. At the same time, his healing magic is more or less an exception, around people considered safe at least, since that's public knowledge he can't hide from. His elemental abilities, however, he's not supposed to use those as freely, not without supervision, especially his shadow magic and the cloaking techniques his brother taught him, because if something were to happen, his brother's the only one who'd be able to find him.

Still, allowing him to do even this much, it's such a drastic change, compared to how little he'd been able to do before, and now that he actually gets to train, too...

Honestly, it wasn't something he thought his parents or his brother would revisit any time soon, if at all, although he knew better than to think he'd be doing anything remotely close to the kind of regimen Naruto follows.

The conditions are a little strict, in the sense of limiting how many hours he's allowed to dedicate to both physical and magical training each week, but it's nothing strenuous, since he still has his regular sessions with Iyashi.

Even with his fire magic, the focus has mostly remained on teaching him self-defence, anyway, revolved around much more subtle methods to distract and disarm, using an opponent's own moves and body weight against them, rather than the traditional offensive attacks often associated with fire users, keeping in line with the theme of mitigating unnecessary contact, alongside the continued push to steer him away from relying so heavily on his life magic.

It's still a last resort, though, in the event already established safety measures fall through. He couldn't even begin to understand the scope of what goes into implementing those safety measures, but he does know his brother, and he knows exactly how his brother gets, so there's a lot he's learned not to put past him.

And since his brother is the one who put this idea in motion, and because his brother is nothing if not a thorough person ("Itachi's paranoid, Sasuke. I think the word you're looking for here, is paranoid."), alongside his training came the stipulation that he would also have additional, more visible protection in the form of Neji and Sai.

Or, as Naruto's dubbed them, Shadow One and Shadow Two.

At first, it did seem like a kneejerk reaction, maybe even a little excessive, for his brother to assign not two people to personally watch over him, in response to what Orochimaru had done.

It wasn't that he didn't understand the reasoning behind it, nor did it necessarily come as a shock. His parents have their own security detail at home, alongside a team that travels with them, and it's a given for Kushina and Minato, who have heightened security, due to Minato's position. Even his brother isn't without some level of protection from time to time, now that he's no longer on active field duty, as more and more people begin to take notice of him, taking note of his rising popularity.

Growing up, it was already part of his environment, automatically extended to him by proxy, as he learned to recognise in the background glimpses of figures that'd mostly remain unseen, so it really wasn't anything new. He just never thought he'd be in a situation where the need for discrete protection would actually apply to _him_.

But Orochimaru became the catalyst for a lot of things, brought to the forefront issues he wasn't aware of before, probably the same issues no one would've told him about otherwise.

Despite how off-putting it'd been, to be on the receiving end of Orochimaru's lingering gaze, the blatant show of interest, how much Orochimaru seemed to know about him, about his magic and his empathy, simply the way Orochimaru had spoken to him, he still maintains that nothing would've happened because he'd already known Orochimaru wasn't going to do anything to him.

And he was right. Nothing happened.

And yet both Naruto and Kyuubi had been fuming when they found him, Kyuubi's magic already too close to the surface, as Naruto yanked him back, trying to hide him from Orochimaru's view.

When Orochimaru finally left, Naruto wouldn't leave his side, only told him to stay close. He wouldn't let anyone near them, either, not until their parents came, even refusing their chaperones, when they tried to question Naruto about what happened.

Of course, when their parents did arrive, after making sure they were both was okay, after making sure they were alone and assured privacy, it was Naruto they immediately turned to for answers, Naruto they listened to first, Naruto who got away with saying more than a few choice words, not holding back on any of it, relaying what he'd heard.

Never mind that Naruto only caught the tail end of a one-side conversation, because their parents were too focused on the kinds of things Naruto emphasised that Orochimaru didn't have a right to say. At the same time, though, their reactions were carefully muted, expressions tight, with so much left unspoken between them, a silent understanding that somehow included Naruto, too, that went straight over Sasuke's head, all of it seemingly intentional just because he was also in the room.

It was yet another discussion he wasn't part of, despite being the subject of said discussion, despite the fact that he'd actually been there and was the one Orochimaru had clearly taken an interest in.

Only after hearing Naruto's account, did they refer to him for his input to corroborate what Naruto had already said. There wasn't much more he could add, other than his attempts to convince them that he really was fine, but his parents were clear that they would revisit the discussion later, when they were back home, and with his brother there.

He didn't know what happened after his parents returned to the negotiations. He didn't know the full extent of the political backlash Orochimaru's actions might've caused. But he knows enough now to piece together that then it was the sort of disruption neither the Alliance nor the Federation could afford, an incident both parties quickly moved to cover up, to prevent it from blowing up into the sideshow of a scandal it surely would've been.

Despite the longstanding history of animosity between the Alliance and the Federation, despite the misgivings that arose when the Federation first proposed the idea of having peace summits, the host of questionable characters involved, supposedly with intention of learning more about the magic user community, there were members from the Federation who actually were acting in good faith, and genuinely did want to better relations with the Alliance.

However, if word got out about what Orochimaru did, the fallout from the sheer optics of that would've led to an absolute media frenzy, and those efforts to put together the first peace summit, essentially a trial run to gauge the future of diplomacy between the two largest government entities, there ran the risk those efforts would've been in vain.

More likely than not, considering how eager the Federation had been to grant Orochimaru's request for political asylum, Orochimaru had probably been counting on the Federation's overall reluctance to censure him, and obviously had no trouble taking advantage of it.

How brazen Orochimaru had been, the implied nature of the things Orochimaru had said to him, much less how inappropriate it was for an adult to approach a thirteen year old alone, even Federation officials couldn't believe Orochimaru would be so bold, and thought Orochimaru's actions worse, when coupled with the complete lack of humility; there were even some who had openly expressed no small amount of concern, albeit just strongly worded concern that didn't directly address the issue, and offered no viable follow-up to dissuade Orochimaru from making the same so-called mistake again.

Though at the time he didn't fully comprehend the reasons why, he already knew how angry Naruto was, how angry even Kyuubi was, and it didn't take his empathy to know his parents were angry, too, even if they'd been careful not to allow that anger to show. He didn't need anybody to tell him that, but it would've been helpful if someone told him what the problem surrounding Orochimaru actually was, instead of speaking over him, and already deciding there was nothing he really needed to be told.

_"But why were you and Kyuubi so angry?"_

_"Because it wasn't _right_, Sasuke. That bastard had no business being near you, no business talking about you like that, talking to you the way he did, like he—like he owned you or something, treating you like he was actually going to..."_

_"...what aren't you telling me about Orochimaru, Naruto? Why is it that you get to know and I don't?"_

_"There's nothing for me to tell. Orochimaru's the bad guy. That's it. What else do you need to know?"_

With what little he eventually did manage to get out of Naruto, it certainly raised more questions than answers, about the current political atmosphere, his own reservations about what it meant for him as a life user, and the unwanted attention he continued to receive because of it.

According to what Naruto also told him, while their dads were already walking a fine line, limited by the level of authority they held, and the perception of how they'd use that power in their positions, their moms had raised_ hell_, and drove much of the tone in the conversations that followed, even renegotiating the terms of authorised participation by members of both the Alliance and the Federation.

Apart from the Federation's overt interest in having him attend the peace summit, the other prevailing factor behind why his parents had initially been so adamant in their refusal to allow him to go, what had reinforced whatever red flags already that interest raised, was the fact that Itachi, despite being such a highly regarded figure within the Alliance, despite the very strong political ties he'd made on his own, of all people, Itachi hadn't been extended an invitation.

Clearly, that hadn't been an oversight. In fact, it was part of the terms eventually agreed upon, the same terms that had been more or less demanded by the Federation, in order to move forward with the peace summit at all. From the outside, viewed by the general public and taken at face value, it was an offer the Alliance couldn't afford to refuse, effectively putting them in a corner, with almost no leverage to use.

Itachi hadn't been pleased about the situation then, and there was no doubt in his mind that his brother would be the furthest thing from pleased after learning what Orochimaru had tried to do to him.

Keeping him safe, that was something his brother had always taken seriously, something that had always been a priority; the situation by itself was already going to upset him, but it wouldn't be the only thing. He'd probably be a little upset with himself, too, for his inability to prevent it from happening, even if there was nothing more he could've possibly done, and although it's doubtful Itachi would actually admit something like that to him, Sasuke already understood enough about his brother and knew that some part of Itachi probably would take it personally.

Just like he already knew how upset his brother was going to be about him not listening to what he'd been explicitly told to do.

Honestly, he wasn't looking forward to that particular exchange with his brother, because as soon as he returned the Capital, after waiting for the moment his brother arrived home, the very first thing his brother did, was ask why he didn't stay with Naruto.

Against the beginning of any protest, too easily, his brother could quiet him, with no words, with one look, could admonish him, convey such a staunch sense of disappointment despite the lack of expression on his face.

Not for the first time, Itachi told him he was too old for excuses, told him he was old enough to know better, because someone like him couldn't afford to continue engaging in such irresponsible behaviour.

_"We have these safety measures in place for a reason. We don't tell you to do things out of some baseless rationale. What we tell you to do is for your own sake, Sasuke, in order to protect you, to keep you safe. That's all we're trying to do."_

_"Nii-san, I wasn't—"_

_"But what good does it do, to implement those safety measures, to even have safety protocols at all, if you don't follow them, as well?"_

And yet all it took was a single name to disrupt his brother's usual display of calm, the simple mention of Orochimaru, that inspired a silent fury in his brother's eyes—never before had he seen his brother so angry, if only for a passing moment, his gaze almost chilling, a cold utterly detached from the familiar warmth of his brother's magic.

Whatever it is about Orochimaru, whatever it is that even now no one will tell him, although it's clearly enough to concern seemingly everyone around him, he still can't be sure it's enough to justify having his own personal bodyguards, because sometimes it does seem like Neji and Sai are just glorified babysitters.

Yet his brother's not the impulsive type. And he's not known for short-term thinking, either. He wouldn't make this sort of decision on a whim, not if he truly felt it necessary, and especially not in regards to anything involving him or Naruto.

That being said, a decision of this magnitude, he can't overstate the significance of Neji and Sai being introduced into his life, handpicked by his brother, two strangers, for all intents and purposes, his brother willingly entrusting him to their care, bringing them into this tiny little circle of people he knows, the only people who've ever been established as _safe_.

Similar to the situation with Sakura, that kind of decision doesn't just affect his wellbeing. It affects Naruto's, too.

As kids, their parents never could seem to stress enough the importance of them knowing their safe adults; it was drilled enough into their heads, knowing around which people they could say or do certain things, because those adults were the select few who knew about his elemental magic, about Naruto and Kyuubi, alongside his apparent connection to them both.

Their parents hadn't been surprised by Itachi's decision, though, considering how quickly Neji and Sai were integrated into their lives, so he suspected it was something that had already been in the works, something they all agreed on well before he even came across Orochimaru. It had to be, because even Naruto was thrown off at first, despite how easily Naruto could tease him about it.

When he tried to ask his parents why there was suddenly a need to give him his own protection detail when he already spent most of his time indoors, he was given the usual cop out, told it was to help keep him safe, to protect him in ways they no longer could.

Predictably, his brother was no better, if not worse; he wouldn't confirm or deny anything, simply said it'd be a prudent step, given the circumstances, and would serve in his best interest moving forward.

The purposely veiled answers weren't so unexpected, practically part of the job description, and it wasn't like he'd have a say about whether or not he needed his own personal minders; since appealing for a more permanent station in Nagi, though, his brother became the foremost authority in regards to most matters pertaining to his safety, with their parents actually deferring to him pretty often for input.

(There are just some things—most things, really—he knows he can't argue against, things that don't even need to be said, and he's learned it's usually better to accept certain constraints, what he ultimately can't change, for all the good it does asking questions in the face of his brother's quiet, near impenetrable stare, because in the end, even with someone there to listen, it doesn't really matter what he thinks.)

Getting used to having Neji and Sai around so often, it wasn't the most seamless transition, but seeing how much his brother seemed to trust them, that was more than enough for him.

In that context, he knows it isn't fair to think of Neji and Sai as glorified babysitters, even if they do escort him to his biweekly appointments with Iyashi, and were taught how to give him dailies, know what to look for and what to do, if for some reason he were to have another episode.

They're actually both highly skilled magic users, S-ranked, in fact, not only on par with Itachi, but apparently close enough to be considered more than just Itachi's colleagues, maybe even going so far as to say they're the closest thing resembling Itachi actually having _friends_—Naruto's exaggerated theories about the people in Itachi's inner circle aside.

(Vaguely, he remembers hearing their names somewhere in passing, more than a couple times, during those days he used to complain to his brother about how much Shisui liked to tease him, when he used to follow them, demand they allow him to play with them, too, while he kept to himself his worry about his brother liking Shisui better, that ridiculously stupid, _stupid,_ childish fear of Shisui one day taking his place—those days the three of them would spend time in the family's private gardens, watching the sun fall below the horizon, as he fell asleep in his brother's arms, as his brother and Shisui spoke softly over him, mentions of the names Neji and Sai in conversations probably not meant for his ears.)

He's not necessarily privy to his brother's social life, or the kind of company his brother keeps, but he knows Neji and Sai are both around Itachi's age, knows the three of them attended Nagi's academy, and continued to train together, following their official enlistment in the military.

And, just like with his brother, he doesn't know what Neji and Sai do exactly, either, although he has the presence of mind to know it's probably much more intricate than whatever formal designations his brother seems to go through, much more than the purported pencil pusher or desk jockey position a lot of people seem to think Itachi settled for.

Having Neji and Sai around really isn't so bad, though. Not much of his routine has changed, and he's been able to carry on with most things as usual. If anything, he has more leeway with Neji and Sai around, so giving up what little privacy he did have is a small price to pay, especially if it means he gets the opportunity to stay on base more often, which also means getting more time to spend with his brother and Naruto.

Normally, it's either Neji or Sai with him, alternating on seemingly random days, and busying themselves with whatever they bring along with them. Most of the time is filled with comfortable silence, aside from periodic checks on him, if they happen to be in different rooms, although they're never too far away from him wherever he is. And he doesn't mind the lack of interaction, because they don't really have much in common; he's under no illusion why Neji are Sai are here, why his brother personally assigned them to watch over him, but that that doesn't mean they don't speak to him at all.

Between the two of them, Neji is more aloof, not really one for casual conversation, and that's fine. He prefers to keep to himself, tends to keep whatever conversations they do have short and to the point, and even resists Naruto's persistent attempts to convince him to show off his water techniques.

(Then again, Naruto somehow managed to get Neji to open up about his younger cousin, Hinata, what little Neji has said about her, yet still revealing how very much he does care for her, although maybe that's just a testament to how difficult it really is to resist someone as outgoing and charismatic as Naruto.)

What's interesting, though, is that Neji hails from the Hyuuga family, recognised as one of _the_ big families, known for having very powerful water elementals, long established as one of the most influential names within the magic user community and within the Alliance.

Like the Uchiha, the Hyuuga have a very detailed and colourful history that's just as old, predating even the first Great War; there's even been speculation that they may have shared some distant ancestors and actually had a very close relationship, during the time when the Uchiha were known as Uchiwa, right before the first magic users appeared.

Where they began to drift, whether it was a gradual shift, out of necessity for survival, or simply due to plain pride and arrogance, although there have been numerous theories, there's no confirmed documentation. However, the relationship is too far removed to matter in the grand scheme of things now, other than a natural sense of competition that inevitably comes with being able to wield that sort of political influence for such a long time.

From that standpoint, it does seem a little unlikely his brother and Neji would become so close, or maybe that was the point. With them both being prodigies from already prestigious families, maybe that was what brought together, where they found common ground.

It's not like he would know.

Sai, on the other hand, though, he's much more accommodating, and is typically the one to initiate any conversation. He's a shadow user, too, one of the few Sasuke knows, as unusual as that already is on its own, so there's probably some bias involved.

Sai's also less guarded about revealing some of his techniques, and it really is interesting to see multiple applications of shadow magic, and the wide variation between different shadow users, especially given how rare shadow magic is.

(Granted, he only knows of three shadow users, so it's not the optimum sample size, if it could even be called that, but it's still a pretty remarkable range, considering.)

Aside from the fact his brother's a shadow user, what truly makes shadow magic so fascinating, is that it's all about perception. Or, in terms of light magic, it's about manipulating the visible plane of sight. That's what Itachi taught him, why there's still such a prevalent stigma attached to being a shadow user, much more than any other magic user, simply because it's natural for people to fear the unknown.

His brother's cloaking technique probably exemplifies that exact fear, the ability to conceal an entire object or an entire person in shadow, to literally remove something or someone from the visible plane of existence. He used to think it was the most amazing thing when he was younger (maybe a part of him still does), before his very eyes, watching his brother's hand disappear, reaching out to hold it, with his own hand too small, blindly reaching for his brother's hand to squeeze it, watching in awe as his brother's fingers slowly began to reappear.

Naruto's the one who told him about Shikamaru having shadow magic; being part of the same squad for the past two years, they've gotten really close, so Naruto talks about him a lot, as much as he talks about the others, too.

(Naruto's never been shy about their relationship. Even if he wanted to, Naruto couldn't hide it, and Sasuke knew there was bound to be some interest in him.

He actually hasn't met any of Naruto's team in person, but Naruto gradually introduced them during a series of video calls, and they've been eager to meet him properly ever since, joking it's because of how much Naruto likes to brag about him.

They've all been nice enough so far, without being overbearing, seemingly interested in getting to know more about him as a person, having not once brought up the subject of his life magic, although he's sure Naruto probably had a hand in that.)

With Shikamaru's magic, his shadow imitation technique gives him the ability to merge his shadow with another person's, for a short period of time, allowing him to the bind that person's movements to his own. Compared to Itachi's cloaking technique, the two are seemingly worlds apart, and although Sasuke hasn't had the opportunity to see Shikamaru's technique for himself, Naruto said it's really impressive see in action, but that it's also a really good thing a genius like Shikamaru is so lazy.

Sai's technique, however, involves bringing shadows to life. Honestly, it did sound a little unbelievable at first, when Sai told him, hard to conceive in his mind, at least until Sai actually showed him.

He's only seen Sai use it a handful of times, each time a fleeting instance, and not enough for him to properly absorb it, which limits how quickly he's able to emulate someone else's technique. Still, it really is sort of incredible, even seeing only a fraction of what Sai's able to do, watching a shadow play of dark puppets crawling along the wall, or watching come alive the small animals drawn in one of Sai's sketchbooks, abstract images of darkly outlined figures, in disjointed motions, actually lifting themselves from the pages.

_"It's creepy, that's what it is. Seriously. Almost as creepy as when your eyes go all wide and do the whole white and glowy thing."_

_"It's just Sai's shadow magic. You don't say the same things about Itachi using his shadow magic."_

_"Actually, I do."_

_"..."_

_"Okay, well, maybe not the exact same things, but we both know I still say a lot about the things your brother does. Which is not the point. The point is, I don't see what's so interesting about Shadow Number Two. He's no Itachi or anything."_

_"Well, no, Sai's not like my brother. I didn't say he was, but, since he is going to be around..."_

_"Yeah, yeah, I got all that already. What I don't get, is why you're suddenly interested in him so much, why he's suddenly all you ever seem to talk about lately. I mean, even when it's just the two of us, it's always Sai said this, or Sai did that, just because he's a shadow user, and you keep—"_

_"Why I'm suddenly—who else am I supposed to talk to, then? Who else do you think I can talk to about any of this? Who else...I'm not like you—I'll _never_ be like you. All the things you still get to do, all the people you get to talk to, I can't just go out whenever I want and..."_

_"Sasuke, I didn't mean it like..."_

_"You're not always here, Naruto. You can't be, but I already know that. I already know you're not going to be there all the time, and that's why I don't expect you to."_

_"But it's not like I wouldn't be here all the time if I could, you know, not if I—"_

_"I know. It's fine. Really. I'm not blaming you for it. That's just what it is."_

_"...doesn't make it right, though."_

_"...yeah, maybe."_

Having someone else to talk to about his magic, better yet, having another person on his side he can actually somewhat relate to, Naruto can't get upset with him for that. And maybe now Naruto would finally understand how he felt about Sakura, all those times when seemingly every conversation they had centred on how much Naruto could talk about her—how strong she was with her earth magic, how good she was at close combat, how cool it was that she knew how to use both her curved daggers at the same time, how really pretty she was with her pretty green eyes and her pretty, pretty pink hair.

On and on, like Sakura was the only person Naruto could see, even though Sasuke was the one in front of him, even when he was already standing _right there_.

(Back then, it wasn't that he disliked her. He just didn't appreciate having to share Naruto's attention.

He did like Sakura. He actually liked her a lot. Even if his brother hadn't been the one to introduce her, even if he hadn't already been assured he could trust her, even now, he knows he still would've gravitated towards her.

And maybe it was because he was only nine at the time, and a lot more impressionable at that age, but there was something about her that his magic had responded to, almost immediately, this strange feeling, like something he used to know, couldn't quite remember, from the moment they met, something about her presence, her magic, that somehow seemed both old and familiar.

Because that day he burned his hand with his fire magic, burned enough through his skin to expose bone, when Naruto took him to find Sakura, as Sasuke's hand continued to heal, and Sakura kneeled in front of him, gently asked if he'd let her take him to the hospital, when she carefully picked him up, and he raised his healed hand to touch her cheek, even on the verge of falling unconscious, so easily had he reached out with his empathy, instinctively trying to soothe her.)

But the way Naruto used to fawn over Sakura, nearly tripping over his feet, every time he rushed after her, it was the first time Sasuke had to confront the reality that he wouldn't always have Naruto to himself, when he first began to realise, at any given moment, one day Naruto could just choose to walk away.

He didn't believe Naruto would, because Naruto had already promised he'd always be there, and Naruto didn't go back on his promises. For the longest time, Naruto was the only friend he had. For the longest time, Naruto was the only friend he needed.

But Naruto wasn't like him. Naruto didn't have to share his attention with anyone else, because he wasn't Naruto's only friend. He was just the one Naruto got stuck with.

If it weren't for their moms being so close, Naruto probably wouldn't have crossed paths with him, probably wouldn't even have given him a second thought. They already had so little in common, even less with Naruto being older, further separated by Naruto having magic. If it weren't for that day Naruto touched his shoulder, inadvertently setting off his empathy, setting off a series of events that inevitably did bring them closer, maybe they wouldn't have been friends at all.

That's why Naruto doesn't have a right to complain about him talking to Sai so much, about him wanting to build more relationships on his own, however seemingly superficial, as long as it's not a relationship determined by someone being within the scope of who Naruto knows.

Gone are the days he'd look to Naruto for all the answers to his questions, the days he used to hang on Naruto's every word, waiting for Naruto to fill in the blanks of a life he was forced to leave behind, a life he could no longer be part of, craving even the smallest little connection to a world that seemingly overnight grew outside his reach.

Or maybe he's just pretending his entire existence hasn't been whittled down to moments like this, moments faded away between clarity, that make it easier to believe he hasn't become so wholly dependent on Naruto for any hope of continued stability in a life that doesn't even feel like his own.

But Naruto's still Naruto. He's always been Naruto—will always be _Naruto_, and nothing will ever change that. No one will ever change that, because there's _no one_ who could ever take Naruto's place.

He'll concede Naruto was right about one thing, though. He and Sai have been talking a lot more lately, but that doesn't mean they're friends. They're not. Nowhere near close.

Despite the relaxed nature of their conversations, he knows better than to get too comfortable around Sai, because he knows Sai is ultimately here on assignment, the same as with Neji, appointed to watch over him by a senior officer, and whatever else their appointment probably entails.

In turn, whatever he says to Sai or Neji, if it's anything either one of them deems concerning, he knows that information will be reported to his brother, regardless of how he may feel about it. Since the onset of his empathy, there's been very little in the way of privacy, very little of his own personal experiences he's had the luxury of keeping to himself—for his sake, as he's often reminded, although the expectation of privacy, even the mere concept of it, seems like some long forgone notion, no matter how hard he tries to hold on to it.

(Even during his sessions with Iyashi, even for such seemingly simple things, because the standards for him are broader, there's no guarantee of confidentially.)

But he expected no less. And Sai told him as much.

_"I can't say I don't appreciate you being so forthcoming, as informative as these conversations have been, but you do realise I'm not here in that sort of capacity, don't you?"_

_"Aren't you the one usually asking me questions?"_

_"I suppose that is true. Does it bother you?"_

_"I don't really mind. I guess it just comes down to whether you're asking me out of curiosity, or if you're trying to get a better understanding of how to do your job more effectively."_

_"A little bit of both, perhaps. Yet it's interesting, I find, given the apparent effects of your empathy, how quickly you came to that conclusion." _

_"Why?"_

_"Despite the impression from having such a highly sensitive nature, you really are more astute than what most people would probably take you to be from your appearance alone."_

He's learned not to put too much stock into what Sai says, because Sai wouldn't be Sai if he didn't create those awkward moments by being so painfully blunt, often bordering on offensive; at this point, however, it's a tossup as to whether or not Sai's doing it on purpose, saying certain things just to get a reaction.

He'll admit it can be a little much at times, with Sai being more observant than he'd like, even if that's part of what Sai's obligated to do. While it makes sense that Sai has to pay attention to him, sometimes it feels like Sai studies him a little too intently, watches both him and Naruto with this vague sense of knowing, which is another reason Naruto thinks Sai is weird, but Naruto also thinks Sai is entirely too straightforward about a lot of unnecessary things, while somehow completely missing the irony of him making that kind of accusation.

Sai does initiate the bulk of their conversations, though, and doesn't necessarily expect a verbal response. Surprisingly, he likes to talk about what's currently happening on base, likes to keep him updated on harmless gossip, not just to pass the time, but also to get his opinion, so he doesn't mind listening, if only because he appreciates having some sort of awareness of his surroundings.

What Sai tells him isn't anything to write home about, definitely nothing he's not supposed to know. There's no way Sai would slip up and pass along that kind of information, even if it's not classified, because if Itachi decides there's something Sasuke doesn't need to know, he won't be told. And that's the end of it.

At the same time, though, it's not an unwelcome change of pace. It really is easy talking to Sai, almost a relief, being able to speak a little more freely about his empathy and his magic, without having to worry too much about any possible repercussions, without having to wonder whether or not he's being psychoanalysed for seemingly the slightest little thing.

In a weird way, he doesn't feel as much pressure speaking about how his empathy affects him, doesn't feel as if Sai's simply waiting for the day he'll inevitably fall apart, and maybe even that's because Sai wasn't there during the worst of his episodes.

It helps that Sai's actually sincere whenever he does ask questions about him, despite how frank he tends to be when he thinks out loud, and yet it doesn't come across as intrusive, much more an idle fascination, because there are definitely boundaries Sai respects and hasn't tried to cross.

(It's nearly the opposite of what it felt like to be around Orochimaru, so very unsettling, being the object of that level of obsession, and though at the time he hadn't found Orochimaru intimidating, having already known Orochimaru wasn't going to hurt him, he still recognised that Orochimaru was intentionally trying to manipulate his empathy, in an attempt to coerce him, trying to force his own emotions onto him, far too eager in his attempts to create the sense that his being a life user somehow meant Orochimaru was entitled to _have_ him.)

Alongside the questions about his empathy and his magic, including his ability to pick up on life signatures, Sai likes to ask about his relationship with Naruto, seemingly trying to figure out their connection and what differentiates someone like Naruto from everyone else. The subject of Kyuubi in particular seems to pique Sai's interest, which isn't so unexpected, considering Kyuubi's one of the ancient tailed beasts, although there's not much Sasuke's either willing or able to tell, because it isn't his place to do so.

Yet, however discerning Sai's been when it comes to him, there's very little he'll reveal about himself, where he comes from, his family name, or even anything related to whatever history he has with Itachi.

And it's not for lack of trying because he's tried. Many times. Between Naruto and him, trying to get a straight answer out of Sai, they've both tried so many times.

"Judging by the lack of disappointment in your expression, I'm assuming the fact Naruto won't able to visit later today has nothing do with why you've decided to approach me."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow.

Sai mirrored the gesture in response.

Breathing in, slowly, Sasuke counted to two, making it to three, before letting out a small sigh. "Being forced to stay home isn't exactly a choice," he said. "And since this is usually the time you'd come to check on me, anyway, Naruto not being able to leave the dorms doesn't have anything to do with it."

"I see." Sai blinked, sparing a quick glance to his PCD held upright, propped by a small stand on the table, having earlier been set it to the side to make room for the braised tofu steaks he'd had for a late lunch. "Does that mean there's something you intend to ask me, then?"

"You and Neji knew my brother before you went the Academy," Sasuke said, peering at Sai from over the rim of the large mug he was holding in both hands. It wasn't quite an accusation, but neither was it a question, because Sai could be aggravatingly particular with the things he chose to say, just like Itachi.

"Many people knew of your brother before we attended the Academy, I should think," Sai said, "although it's flattering you'd believe Neji and I bear any significance for sharing that common distinction."

Sasuke felt his left eye twitch a little, but he was mature enough that he wouldn't give Sai the satisfaction of anything more. He wasn't going to give in to the kind of reaction Sai seemed to easily draw from Naruto.

Instead, he switched tactics, putting on a carefully crafted air of nonchalance as he lowered his mug, carefully setting it down on the table. "How long have you known Itachi?"

Slowly, the corners of Sai's mouth began to lift. Slightly leaned forward, Sai brought his elbows to the table, head titled a little to the side, as he raised his hands in front of him, fingers laced together, where he lightly rested his chin.

"Oh, how long I've known the commander," he said, eyes closed, yet the amusement clear in his voice, carved around too composed a smile, the kind of stilted expression that really should've been more off-putting, except it was something that didn't even faze Sasuke anymore.

"Yes, I've known him for quite some time."

Anything that has to do with Sai's personal life, those kinds of conversations prove to be a road that leads to nowhere, although he's increasingly inclined to agree with Naruto, that the way Sai tends to handle said conversations could only prove Sai and Itachi can't be anything but really, really good friends.

Sai may not effect the same sort of calm demeanour as his brother, but he definitely shares the same exasperating habit of circumventing even direct questions with non-answers.

_"I don't want to be the one to say it, but this isn't like with Neji. Without knowing Sai's weakness, if he even has a weakness, we need to focus on coming up with a new strategy against something so highly effective."_

_"A strategy."_

_"Yeah, to work around a turn-based combat system. It's just a little harder having to adjust with my normal fighting style in this genre, since I'm so used to going all out and with the advantage of attacking whenever I want. But Sai's counterattack..."_

_"Sai's...counterattack?"_

_"It's too strong, Sasuke."_

_ "...that's not the right response to this situation."_

_"It's too strong."_

There is one thing, however, that he did discover about Sai, something he doubts even Sai realises he knows.

To anyone paying attention, it's not hard to notice. Sai normally carries two or three small books with him, seemingly at random, between a wide variety of short novels and different sketchbooks, but rarely appearing consecutively with the same book twice—save for the one he always seems to carry around without fail.

Granted, he can only speak to the times when he does see Sai, which is actually pretty often, but it's still obvious that particular book is important to him, even if Sai refuses to acknowledge or even refute whatever significance the book holds.

When he asked Sai about the book, Sai simply called it a product of habit, with his usual, almost stilted smile, said it was a picture book that's somehow remained empty over the years.

"It's a blank picture book."

"Yes. Because it hasn't been written yet."

Sai didn't volunteer to say more, and Sasuke decided to leave it at that, because he had no reason not to believe him.

Or, he would've dropped the issue, since it really wasn't his business to pry, except there was something about the book he was struggling to put his finger on, something that probably wouldn't have meant anything on its own, save for the fact that his magic seemed drawn to it—similar to the way his magic had been drawn to Sanchez that day, held him still, compelled him to look, in that one moment, so very brief, when he'd looked at Sanchez with his life magic, with his eyes wide, eyes white, in the middle of his uncle's gala, the first time he realised he could actually tell when another person was _dying_.

Whatever it was tying Sai to the empty picture book, while he didn't think it was on the same level of being able to gauge the state of someone's life force, it did, however, eventually lead him to discover another apparent manifestation of his magic.

Like most incidents involving different aspects of his magic, it wasn't intentional. Discovering it happened by chance.

One day, the picture book was lying on the small kitchen table, too close to the edge, where Sai had left it, after he left to take a call in Itachi's office.

And he remembers because he was going over the homework assignments Naruto let him borrow, trying to fit in a quick snack, before he had to go back to the Capital, to spend the rest of the week with his parents.

At first glance, the book looked like nothing special, hardbound, coloured a nondescript black, small and thin, more like one of those old-fashioned journals that were getting popular again.

He wasn't even paying attention to it. He was reading Naruto's notes, following scribbled words all but scrunched along the margins of printed text, while absently picking apart the rest of his sandwich, not even pausing mid-chew when Sai's book suddenly slipped off the table.

He didn't think when he started reaching for it, couldn't have imagined touching a book with his hand bared would've made any sort of difference, because it was more of a hassle to wear his gloves while eating, when he was home and didn't have to; having to wear gloves mostly applied toward to his proximity to people he wasn't used to, people he didn't consider safe, and his parents weren't as strict about it as they used to be.

A brief glance near his foot showed the book was lying on the floor, revealing only blank pages fallen open that still appeared new, showing no visible signs of use.

At the same time, however, he felt a growing part of himself being drawn toward it, an urge steadily increasing, his magic responding with a familiar lull in the back of his mind, as he continued to lean closer, yet as he reached with his hand to pick it up, as soon as he touched the book, somehow, he could _feel_ it—suddenly felt _all of it_, eyes grown wide, vision bled through greys, nearly dropping the book because there was so much of it, surrounding him, harrowing the sensation, an onslaught of emotions that weren't his own, seemingly enclosed from all around him, so very poignant, the utter sense of los—

He all but flung the book on the table, sat still against the back of his chair, lips trembling, as colours abruptly cut through the greys. Realising he was gripping too tight at the cuff of his sleeve, quickly, he moved to dry his eyes with the back of his hand.

And then he remembered one of the exercises Iyashi taught him, remembered to keep his own emotions in, remembered to keep everything else out—remembered to _breathe_.

It couldn't have lasted long, no more than a minute, if even that. Sai was still in Itachi's office and hadn't moved, not as far as he could tell. When Sai did start making his way back to kitchen, by then, Sasuke had managed to snap himself out of the moment, had calmed enough to finish his sandwich, wash his hands, and put his gloves back on, carry on as if none of it even happened.

As long as Sai had been speaking to Itachi, it was more than enough time.

Although if Sai noticed his book wasn't in the same position where he'd left it, he didn't say anything when he asked if Sasuke was ready to go.

That was only a few weeks ago, and he's still trying to process not only what happened, but also how his empathy could seemingly be affected by a book.

Given his shields, which he can confidently say are probably much stronger than even those among more powerful, high-ranking magic users (they have to be), whatever it is about Sai's book that he'd been drawn to, the only reason it hit him so hard, was because he hadn't been prepared for it; even with his particular brand of empathy that stands him apart, he couldn't have possibly expected simply touching a book could've triggered any kind of response.

Within the context of empathy specifically defined between magic users, as far as he knows, as far as anyone knows, extrasensory perception, in the physical sense, doesn't exist.

Their empathy is a response to the emotions of another magic user, not inanimate objects. Considering how many improbable theories are already out there, still being treated as fact, even without documented research, if there was anything to even substantiate the possibility of that kind of telepathy, he wants to think he would've come across it by now.

As a magic user, having empathy simply means being more receptive to emotions, and sensitivity has more so been established as a tool to help gauge magical ability; outside that, any more has been written off as conjecture. Apparently, only life users have the ability to actually feel the full extent of someone else's emotions. Even his brother and Naruto, with their exceedingly high levels of empathy, as strong as they both are, what may come across as a gentle warmth to them, in no way compares to the intensity of emotions his own empathy once gave him no choice but to feel.

Normally, he would've told Iyashi about it by now, probably should've told him that very day, since that's what he's supposed to do. Any new developments with his empathy of his magic, he's old enough now that he's trusted to be responsible enough not to keep those kinds of things to himself anymore.

Except there's something about it, something about his magic's response to Sai's book, however disconcerting, that made him hesitate to tell anyone. Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe it was a delayed reaction to something else, because he still doesn't know if there's anything _to_ tell.

But then it happened again, last week even, while he was with Tenten, during one of their meets at the Academy's library.

Instead of a book, though, it was Tenten's old toy, decorated with white characters, faded among streaks of dulled blues and gold coiled along its six sides, a black, metal spinner top she was given when she was around five or six, while she was staying in the Traids on Baruoki, because her parents had been temporarily assigned there, to study deposits of a rare mineral ore; she'd found the top in one the boxes she'd been putting off for the longest time to unpack, the boxes filled with her parents' belongings she couldn't bring herself to throw away.

And she only thought to show him the top because one of the texts they were going through reminded her of the short time she spent living in the Traids, the scene of the local communities there, and one of the festivals her parents took her to.

She couldn't remember any specifics, but the impression overall had stayed with her, the colours and imagery she could still see vividly.

"I don't remember much, but there was just something about it that seemed...flowy. Yeah, everything was really flowy, I guess you could say—even the clothes everyone was wearing. I remember lots of blues, too. And there was this one lady, the fortune teller my parents bought the top from, I remember walking up to her, and just staring at her every time she moved, because of the way her clothes seemed to move with her, the way the fabric fell over her, like waves, you know.

"I mean, Baruoki was claimed as Federation years ago, so I doubt I'll ever get a chance to go back to the Traids any time soon, but I wonder if...

"Or do you think I'm just being too sentimental about the past?"

"Is that why you always like to say you could've been a fortune teller?"

"...yeah. I know I joke about it a lot, really, and it's...well, I can't even remember that lady's name—go figure—but when she showed me how me to tell fortunes with this, I just thought it was the coolest thing ever, and even though my parents had always been big on the hard sciences, there were so many times they'd ask me to read them their fortunes, and they'd encourage me to keep trying, even when their fortunes didn't always come true, but I still couldn't..."

She said she'd started to carry the top with her more often, that it made her feel more comfortable because in some ways it almost felt like her parents were still with her.

On that day, she also offered to read his fortune, said it was just for fun.

And for the same reasons he didn't mind his empathy subconsciously responding to her, during those instances when she'd get that faraway look in her eyes, when she'd open up to him about memories of her parents it seemed she was trying not to forget, that he agreed to let her read his fortune.

She asked him to hold out his gloved palm, where she then placed the top, laying it horizontally across his palm, and closed his fingers over it, placing her hand over his.

It was only then that he felt it, a slight pull from the back of his mind, his magic being drawn toward that same _something_, like with Sai's book yet much more faint, that sudden, pervasive sense of loss, before she gently uncurled his fingers, picking up the top by its thin handle and removing the it from his palm.

"This is always the hardest part," she murmured, place the top upright on the table and giving it a slow, measured spin. "I have to remove the top just fast enough, or the energies get too muddled to read correctly. The rest is a secret, though."

He didn't feel any particular way about it, because something like that was already arbitrary in nature, but he still watched, almost mesmerised by how long the top actually continued to spin, how engrossed Tenten seemed by it, too, eyes slightly narrowed, nearly frowning when the top eventually stopped, falling on one of its sides.

After seemingly too long a silence between them, finally, she looked up and said, "...four, and then two, three."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not sure? But since I offered already thinking I knew enough about you, without having to ask anything else, I don't...

"Actually, if you don't mind me asking, Sasuke, are you a magic user?"

He blinked once, twice. "Yes."

"Oh." Calmly, she took the top from the table and placed it back in the side pocket of her bag, absently closing the zipper. "I guess that it explains it, then, why those numbers kept coming up and why I couldn't get a feel for anything past sixteen."

"You didn't know?"

"Considering I'm not even a magic user, was I supposed to have known? That's only a thing between magic users, right? Not to mention, I thought it was considered sort of rude to just ask about that kind of thing."

"No, I mean...all this time, and you don't know who I am?"

Honestly, even though he'd only introduced himself by his first name, which wasn't necessarily that common, he still thought it was obvious, if only because of the strong features in his family, how often he'd been told how similar in looks he was to his brother. He'd already become so used to being recognised as the life user from the Uchiha family or Uchiha Itachi's little brother, used to the poorly hidden glances, if not sometimes outright gawking, whenever he did go out in public, that he just assumed she'd known who he was when they first met.

And yet, somehow, despite all the stir it'd caused when word got out about his increased visits on base, despite their shared interest in magic lore, the thought of him being a magic user never crossed her mind, much less the connection to his family, or the possibility of him being related to Uchiha Itachi.

Then again, when they first met, it wasn't long after Tenten had lost her parents, so of course she'd be more preoccupied reeling from being suddenly forced on her own at sixteen, rather than caught up in the unnecessary attention placed on him simply for being a life user.

(Highly proficient in weapons, she said she applied to Nagi's academy specifically for the weapons support track, because it was something tangible in an area where she knew she could do well. Determined to get into one of the best academies throughout the Alliance, she wanted to help create a world where other people didn't have to end up like her.

"Wanting to come to Nagi, I know it's kind of strange, especially since it seems like everyone here has magic, but after my parents died, I decided I don't just want to be someone good in this world—I want to actually be able to do something good _in it_, you know.")

When he did tell her who he was, however, she responded with a genuine surprise that actually surprised him, too, because it served just as much an unwanted reflection of how he'd inadvertently come to see himself and how much of that he'd taken for granted.

"No way. You really are…you're Uchiha Sasuke?" she whispered, before abruptly drawing away, nearly rocking back on her chair, before she again leaned forward, crossing her arms and laying them on the table. "As in related to _the_ Uchiha Itachi, you're Uchiha Sasuke?"

"You really didn't know?"

"That you're related to Commander Uchiha?" Tenten gave a sheepish sort of smile, tucking behind her ear long strands of brown hair loose from one of her messy buns. "I guess the resemblance is there, if you're looking for it. And it makes a lot of sense, if you think about it, especially looking back on everything. But, considering you're the only other person I know actually crazy enough to take up studying magic lore as a hobby, that was already enough for me—that's what made it so easy to talk to you at first, I think."

The fact that she hadn't been paying more attention (didn't even think to ask him why he was constantly wearing gloves and long-sleeved shirts during the summer), while she admitted she probably should've take more notice, she didn't seem all too bothered by it. She didn't apologise for it, either, just went back to the text they were looking through, what had initially prompted their discussion about water users, back to what they mostly do during their meets-ups: try to piece together remnants of generational magic lore scattered among different cultures.

It was a pivotal moment in their relationship, when he truly began to consider her as a friend, and not just someone he could bounce ideas off.

After revealing who he was, having to acknowledge it out loud between them, it actually was kind of nice, similar to the sort relief he felt as he began to speak more with Sai, especially since she wouldn't bring up the subject of his magic, unless it was involved with something they were already talking about.

Of course he can't tell her everything, although he knows she'd already been vetted beforehand (otherwise, he wouldn't have been allowed near her), but it does take some of the weight off his shoulders, being around someone closer to his age, who doesn't have those kinds of expectations he's grown used to, who doesn't know what he's gone through because he's a life user, and shares his enthusiasm for magic lore.

Knowing about Tenten's history, though, why her spinning top hadn't affected him to anywhere near the same extent as Sai's empty book did, he thinks it was probably because he was wearing his gloves at the time, as well as the fact he was a little more prepared, as he was able to recognise the subtle change in his magic, the slightest little tingle that travelled down the length of his spine, before Tenten placed the top in his hand.

(On the surface, having specialised gloves could only do so much. Without maintaining his shields, very well he already knows that wearing those gloves means nothing.

That time, however, he also intentionally lowered his shields, only a little, if just to entertain his own curiosity, already anticipating his magic's response.)

Yet given the similarities between those two incidents, he's come to believe it wasn't the object itself his magic had responded to, but rather the impression of any emotions left behind.

There hasn't been much to prove his theory so far, and it's not enough to establish a clear pattern, but that's what he's going to assume for now: if an emotion associated with an object is strong enough, that emotion can then bind itself to the object, and that's what allows him to sense it with his empathy. While it's mostly been unintentional on his part, more so purposely driven by his magic, he's still trying to come to terms with it.

Not to mention, he's not in a position where he feels comfortable enough to lower his shields in order to explore this seemingly new ability any further, although it is something he should tell someone. And he will. Eventually. He just doesn't know how to approach that conversation, because it almost feels silly, how much thought he's given it—as if emotions could actually be tangible things, things that could actually shift to live on beyond someone's experiences.

Maybe.

(It's still all too new, hard to comprehend, and yet it's left him to wonder if he was able to do it before, if it was only then a matter of not being aware, because so easily he'd be overwhelmed by his empathy instead.)

Just the idea of being able to sense emotions from inanimate objects, frankly, it really does seem a little too farfetched, even with his history, given his level of sensitivity, and even within the realm of what he knows his magic is capable of doing. Although he can't deny what he felt, and that there really is something going on with his empathy, how he can expect anyone else to believe him, if he's still struggling to believe it himself?

Regardless, he knows he needs to tell someone soon. Naruto, most likely, since that's what he's usually done, anyway, because for a lot of things he felt more comfortable going to Naruto first; speaking to Naruto doesn't feel as daunting, like it sometimes does whenever he's speaking to his brother or his parents.

Compared to how much time he's spent worrying over that, though, he's actually a little more concerned about his other recent discovery, the one that's really brought into question the implications of how his magic may influence another person's actions, seemingly by altering their perception of him.

Already he's been told that he has a calming effect on people, whether they're magic users or not, and in a way that's fundamentally different from the type of empathy usually shared between magic users.

And he's noticed, within the past year, this seeming ability to get away with doing certain things, to go by unnoticed, despite his reputation, how people around him may appear to dismiss his presence entirely; it's nothing he can manipulate or predict, although it doesn't seem to have an effect on the people in his circle he's personally close to, people his magic's already used to.

The first time he noticed something a little bit off, was right after the peace summit, while he was checking in for an impromptu appointment scheduled with Iyashi. After signing in with his information and giving the tablet to Kelley—the receptionist who'd moved to the Capital to continue working with Iyashi, with the uncanny ability to know seemingly any and everything about nearly all of Iyashi's patients—somehow, Kelley was surprised to see him on the other side of the desk, as if he'd suddenly forgotten Sasuke had been consistently coming to see Iyashi for the better part of four years.

Even for him, it was too strange to ignore or simply brush off as some kind of fluke, and he didn't hesitate to tell Iyashi. Like most things, Iyashi took it in stride, although apparently it was also something that had already been brought to Iyashi's attention by his parents, what Naruto had told them, probably the moment Sasuke had been out of earshot.

During that first peace summit, before his confrontation with Orochimaru, Naruto did take note of the fact that initially he was the only one seemingly aware of Sasuke's absence. Their chaperones hadn't even seemed to notice Sasuke was no longer there; they didn't realise until after Naruto had left the room, and even then it still took some time.

While telling him this, Iyashi didn't seem particularly alarmed, with the same impassive expression as usual, just said it was something he should keep an eye out for, and to let him know if and when any similar instances presented themselves.

He agreed it probably wasn't a fluke but also conceded there were limitations in his ability to gauge the more compelling effects of Sasuke's magic, how both his empathy and magic continue to grow, and, in turn, how they have created a need for the same refuge they offer from the world around him.

_"In either case, was it a conscious decision?"_

_"No. Even if I could, I wouldn't do something like that on purpose. You know I'm not allowed to use my magic like that out in the open."_

_"We've already talked about receiving unwanted attention and how it makes you feel. So, if you did have an opportunity to escape that unwanted attention, would it be something you'd consider?"_

_"It's like everything else. It doesn't matter—it shouldn't matter."_

_"Why do you think it shouldn't matter?"_

_"Because I...I don't know."_

_"Let me say this, then. No one can make these decisions for you, Sasuke. How a situation like this affects you, whether or not it should matter, you have to decide that on your own."_

After finally being able to put so much of what he's gone through behind him, having to deal with these new aspects of his magic is the last thing he needs. He may not have the most thorough understanding of his magic, but he does know how it works, has many times reached the point where he knows there really is very little he can do to go against it—even with having Kyuubi, Naruto can't understand that.

All those reassurances he's been given, whatever claims of potential he may have, none of it means anything, if he can't even control his own magic. And that's the crux of it, really, that lingering uncertainty from not knowing, from being at the mercy of the very same magic he's become so dependent on.

Knowing when it's okay to give in, to trust his magic when it takes over, it's a balance he's yet to find, but that's why he needs to keep pushing himself. That's why he can't afford to stop trying. Now, it's just a matter of proving the progress he's made, both to himself and for everyone else to see.

Aside from learning how to both cope with and manage his empathy, the most effective change has probably been in his stamina, because that was one of the harsher constraints he suddenly had to face.

Before the first time he was admitted into Reife, he'd been pretty active, involved in the same kinds of things most kids his age did, only excluded when not having magic became an issue.

Following his release, it wasn't long at all until he was right back at Reife, only a little under a month in between then and when he was hospitalised again, that day Shisui died—those few weeks at home hadn't been nearly long enough for anyone to fully appreciate how much of a toll having empathy and life magic would eventually take on his body.

It wasn't so obvious at first. Understandably, there'd been more of a focus on how his empathy began to worsen, not to mention the fact he suddenly had the ability to heal almost instantaneously and by touch alone.

During then was when he suffered the worst of his episodes, and that on its own was initially enough to explain his chronic fatigue, and why he rarely had the energy to do much of anything. It reached the point where the nurses would have to wake him up for scheduled meals, because he'd sleep through those, too, if they'd let him; his parents tried their best to be there instead, usually bringing the kinds of foods he preferred, to make sure he'd eat, and they'd stay with him as long as they could, before they had to leave.

(A large part of what made his hospital stays more bearable, was the fact that he spent so much of that time sleeping. The days didn't seem to pass by so slowly, considering he couldn't even stay awake long enough for most of them, and many times did Naruto's visits turn into afternoon naps shared in that hospital bed seemingly only big enough to fit the two of them.)

After the second time he was released from the hospital, it was much more difficult again having to make that transition back to life at home, when reality started to hit him, as it became more apparent that he no longer had the stamina to physically keep up with doing even the simplest things. Discovering the intricacies that seemingly came along with his life magic, however, didn't occur until later.

Unlike what was seen with elemental users and the individual use of magic reserves, using life magic meant he'd be drawing from his own life force. His care team had already established that fairly early, but it was Nurse Mitate who proposed the idea that his life magic also behaved in ways similar to involuntary respiration, an automatic process that required no direct, conscious control, to ensure his life force would be sustained by his life magic, which in turn created a feedback with his empathy.

Of course, none of that made any sense to him at the time. He just knew he was always tired, and whatever treatments he was told he'd have to go through didn't feel like they were helping.

It only mattered that Iyashi understood enough. Taking Mitate's suggestions, he began to work more closely with Sasuke's care team, restructuring their sessions to incorporate life magic into some of the exercises that had helped Sasuke build the foundation for his shields, which also helped him better understand how his magic worked.

As a life user, more so than being prone to magical exhaustion, he had to learn to account for sheer physical exhaustion that apparently came alongside it, simply due to the fact his life magic passively draws from his life force, regardless of whether he's actively using his magic, more or less putting a continuous strain on what he was already severely lacking in reserves.

And it's not as if he can just put his life magic to the side. It's an irrefutable force all on its own, an ever-present ebb and flow, in constant motion, in nature neither fully diminished nor receding. Unlike his elemental magic, he can't just turn his life magic off. And his stamina has suffered for it.

Yet the fact that being a life user does affect him on such a fundamental level, within the framework of what he's learned about his magic, absolutely, it makes perfect sense, why he came to tire so easily, and how sleeping became a means for his body to recuperate with the changes presented by his life magic, to the extent of taking precedence over regular biological functions, one time too many having left him in a suspended state of animation that made it virtually impossible to detect any vital signs.

The ability to manipulate life comes at a price, and that price is at the expense of his own health.

It's just fact at this point, something that simply is, and yet, sometimes, he can't help but wonder if merely having this kind of ability to heal means he should be doing more with it, if being a life user means that somewhere down the line, healing others is what he's supposed to do, if that's something he should be ultimately working towards instead, rather than spend the rest of his life trying to chase down an impossible dream.

Even before his life magic presented, he'd never really been interested in any sort of medical career. He still can't see himself in that kind of environment, but it's hard to ignore some of the things people have said about him, the kinds of things not even his brother can keep him from hearing, an increasingly prevailing school of thought, especially from non-magic users, surrounding him this sort of expectation he should already be out there using his abilities to help those in need, for the supposed greater good, and that his parents are actually being selfish, having somehow done a public disservice by preventing access to him.

He knows Naruto doesn't like when people talk about him that way, knows how upset Naruto gets when people talk about him like he's not even his own person, so he doesn't really bring it up anymore, just tries not to think about it, the reality of how some people have come to see him, like he's just some commodity that could be so easily passed around.

But Naruto likes to tell him it's something he shouldn't feel guilty about. Just like what his brother says, the same as what his parents and Kushina and Minato say, that being a life user doesn't come with any obligations, and that he has a right to live for himself, to be the kind of person _he_ wants to be.

_"Where'd you get that idea?"_

_"I saw it on the news. I was going through channels, but then I heard my name, so, I stopped to watch the rest of this interview, and..."_

_"Oh, I see. Is that what happened."_

_"..."_

_"You really do remind me of Itachi when he was younger. A little too precocious for your own good, aren't you."_

_"Minato-san, I'm not like my...I'm not..._precocious_. I just didn't know. And nobody told me—why didn't anybody tell me?" _

_"Because sometimes people say things you're too young to hear."_

_"But I'm almost ten."_

_"You are. And while I know that it's a pretty important age, there's still a lot out there you won't understand until you're older. Even Naruto doesn't understand a lot of things. And he's almost eleven."_

_"...is it true, though? Is that what people really think about me?"_

_"Well, some of them, yes. But that's just part of life. We can only try our best to do good in this world. We can't control what other people think about us. But just because someone might say something about us, doesn't always mean what they say is right, or even true."_

_"Even when people say things that aren't true about you?"_

_"Especially then. Being who I am doesn't mean people aren't allowed to say what they think about me. Although for you, Sasuke, what you really have to think about, is whether or not that's something _you_ want to do—not something you think you have to do, because of what other people say."_

_"...I don't know if it's something I should use my magic to do, because of what it does to me, but, helping people, doesn't that make it my responsibility, anyway, if it's something I know I can do?"_

_"Have you talked to your parents or Iyashi about this?"_

_"...no."_

_"What about your brother? Have you told him how you feel?"_

_"I can't tell him. And that's why I can't tell Naruto, either. I don't want to bother them."_

_"What makes you think you'll bother them?"_

_"..."_

_"Sasuke?"_

_"Because everyone already treats me like I'll...but, I think, since Naruto always talks about trying to do the right thing, then, using my magic to heal someone who's dying, wouldn't that be the right thing to do?"_

_"The right thing for who?"_

_"For people who are sick. People I should help. The man from the interview, he said it's my fault if I don't—"_

_"And what about what happens to you? What about what using your magic does to you? Shouldn't that matter, too?"_

_"...he didn't say anything about that."_

_"There's nothing wrong with wanting to do the right thing. Unfortunately, it's not always as simple as some people want to make it out to be. Your parents and your brother, Kushina and I, this is what we mean by saying there are things you're still too young to understand—especially the kinds of things no one should try to make you feel guilty over, no matter who they are._

_"Later on, helping people with your magic, if that's what _you_ decide you want to do in the future, then we'll be there to support you. Right now, though..._

_"You've been through so many things, Sasuke. So many things I wish you didn't have to go through. But that also means you're a very strong person. I know you are. And I know how much you look up to Naruto, how much you want to do what's right, by helping other people._

_"But it's just as important to understand that you have to do what's right for you, too. And the people around you, when there are things we decide not to tell you, it's in order to protect you, to keep you safe—to do what's right for you, because we care about you. That's why we try our best to be as honest with you as we can, when we feel you're ready for it._

_"The circumstances are different for you, Sasuke—they're dangerous. And when you're older, you'll reach a point where you realise that. I don't mean to say things will always be this way, or that nothing will ever change, but there are a lot of people out there who aren't safe adults, people who don't have your best interests at heart, who are only concerned with doing what's right for them, and not how what they want might affect you._

_"But that's not something we want you to get worked up over. You're too young to have to worry about things like that, so just let us take care of it, all right."_

_"...but I'm still not..."_

_"It's okay, Sasuke. You don't have to be what someone else thinks you should be. You having life magic doesn't mean someone has the right to demand what you should and shouldn't do._

_"And I know it can be upsetting, hearing something like that from someone who doesn't even know you, but the people around you, the people who do want what's best for you, that's what we're here for. We're here to take care of you."_

Those kinds of conversations with Minato, there weren't a lot of them, but, when he first discovered the rumours, as he gradually became more aware of how often and on how many platforms people would actually talk about _him_, there was a period of time when it first seemed like only someone in Minato's position— within the Alliance, the first ever magic user to hold the highest elected position in office—someone seemingly surrounded by even more gossip than the entirety of his own family, could understand what it felt like to be targeted simply for existing.

Unsurprisingly, what Minato didn't like to bring up directly, what no one still likes to talk about outright, what doesn't need to be said, and what most people outside his circle don't realise, is the cost to his own life, whenever he does use his magic to heal.

Considering the handful of times he nearly killed himself in the process, although he doesn't like to admit it, he still hasn't reached a point where he can use his healing magic so freely, at least not around people his magic isn't used to; it's harder to contain, harder not to let go, at even the slightest chance he allows his magic to roam, how quickly it will latch onto an unfamiliar life force.

It's a moot point, anyway, like with so many other things his parents won't allow him to do, so many things he can't even be sure he'll ever have the capability to do. And yet the thought that he should be doing more, it's still there, the pressure to use his magic to heal, to give up so much of himself for the sake of soothing the hurt of someone else—maybe all those attempts to guilt trip his parents did affect him in some way, but then he can also say that's just how his magic makes him feel, simply how it works.

More than that, maybe it just serves as another reminder of how limited he is in what he can actually do, making it that much harder to understand how being a life user could ever become such a big deal, something too many people continue to attach entirely too much significance to.

Comparatively speaking, he does have a better handle of his magic now, so, even with what's been happening lately, it isn't about him feeling sorry for himself. As far as he's come, as much as he's put the people closest to him through, he refuses to wallow in self-pity because he's over that—he's had more than enough time to be well over that by now; although he may have spent half his life effectively living in a bubble, he's not so self-absorbed that he can't even acknowledge the difference six years has made.

But what good is even having the ability to heal, if he can't realistically do anything with it?

Better yet, what good are any of his abilities? What good does it do for him to naturally be so sensitive, if his empathy doesn't translate into anything that's actually practical for him to use?

He already knows he'll never be like his brother.

He knows the idea of ever catching up to Naruto has pretty much always been and probably will always be a pipe dream.

But that stupid, childish desire to be just like them, wanting to go with them everywhere, already decided to follow them anywhere, that embarrassing desperation he should've long ago outgrown, that still hasn't gone away, either.

Between the two of them, that's why he pushed himself so hard to learn elemental magic. While he probably already had the potential for it, if it weren't for his brother and Naruto, if he hadn't tried to emulate them, if he hadn't held them to the standard of what he'd quickly grown to consider normal, he doesn't think if he would've gone as far—never mind the fact they were initially the only ones who made his empathetic attacks bearable, seemingly the only two people in the world it never hurt to be around, the first two people he began to associate with that feeling of being _safe_.

So, while he was still fumbling trying to navigate his empathy and his life magic, after watching some of the techniques his brother and Naruto could do, he just tried to make those into something he could call his own.

It wasn't an immediate change, or something that came to him easily. It took a while, hours alone he eventually lost count of, practicing in secret, not even telling Naruto. Then, one day, suddenly, he could manipulate his first two elements: shadow and wind.

After that, following the uproar it caused when he'd shown Naruto and Naruto dragged him to show Itachi, it became a little easier, even started to feel more natural, since that was before anyone realised he'd been pulling on his life force, rather than the small reserves for elemental magic he wouldn't learn about until much later.

If his parents hadn't been hovering over him before, most definitely, they decided to tighten the reins, for a surprisingly long time, even limiting his contact with extended family, barely giving him any room to breathe without supervision.

(Well before his diagnosis as a non-magic user, his brother already had somewhat protective tendencies, tendencies that only escalated after he did eventually prove to have empathy, and tendencies made much more apparent when he also proved to be a life user.

Yet, as sheltered as his parents have kept him, as much as they still tend to hover, he's beginning to learn there are a lot things he shouldn't put past his brother, increasingly, a lot of decisions his brother's made that can only be described as...dubious, at best.

More than a few times, Naruto's joked about Itachi one day locking him away in a tower somewhere on the other side of the galaxy.

Sasuke still can't be sure there isn't some part of his brother not sorely tempted to do just that.)

With most of the heavier constraints, though, he managed to find ways around them, inadvertently, simply by spending so much of his time with Naruto. It was what he'd already been doing, anyway, an opportunity he didn't hesitate to take, especially since Naruto had actually agreed not tell anyone right away—as long as Sasuke didn't practice by himself, and not unless something happened.

Which it did.

When he was showing his third element to Naruto, and all but burned off his hand in his excitement.

(At nine, he didn't think it was bad enough to warrant Naruto running off to get Sakura, because he'd already known his hand was going to heal, eventually, even if he did end up passing out in Sakura's arms.

He also didn't think it was bad enough to warrant Naruto telling on him and accusing him of going back on his promise, because he hadn't, not really; in his defence, practicing his elemental magic while Naruto was nearby and not looking wasn't anywhere near the same as practicing by himself.)

Unsurprisingly, fire became one of his better affinities, the one that made him the feel most connected to his heritage, the legacy of his family, the very same magic passed down from generation to generation, and yet he couldn't even...

However, by then, he started to notice he didn't have to push himself as hard. And the more he watched others manipulating their magic, the easier it seemingly became not just to emulate what he saw, but to understand how to transform those techniques into different ways of manipulating elements on their own.

He was essentially pulling from his life force, doing no more than what he'd already done, part of that pattern he'd already established as what simply felt natural for him to.

At that point, though, while he hadn't yet realised what he was doing, it wasn't such a strain, because his elemental magic wasn't actually that strong, admittedly at a level too low for even Naruto to pick up on, much less enough to be noticed by most of the magic users around him, including his brother.

Looking back, it was probably how he initially got away with doing so much, and maybe even played into why he wasn't as fazed when he was finally able to manipulate his fourth element: water.

He hadn't been practicing intentionally. Not being close enough to any water users, he wasn't able to emulate what he couldn't see in person; there was nothing to retain watching through video, or even through reading less complex material, and even if there was someone he could actually watch, considering what happened with his fire magic, after he'd given himself third degree burns, with how much more attention everyone was given him, at the very least, he figured it'd be okay to take a break.

Despite the setbacks, when he did decide to focus on manipulating water, he actually learned without relying on any specific techniques. Understanding came gradually, almost as an afterthought from casual observation: seeing the properties of water, the shape itself, the shapes it'd take, how freely it flowed and how it was displaced.

He'd usually do it while he was in the bath, spare a few seconds to raise his hand, follow the way the water would seep through his fingers. Sometimes, he'd use his wind magic to gently direct the air inside large soap bubbles, pulling from what he remembered of one of Naruto's techniques, and eventually attempting to move the bubbles themselves. Either way, he hadn't been able to maintain it; the bubbles would pop within less than a second, almost as if he'd used his own hand to touch them.

But then his precision his grew, over the course of a few weeks, continued to grow, enough so that he went from maintain the shape of a few soap bubbles while in the bath, to manipulating the raindrops fallen outside his room window, steadily increasing the expanse of glass he was able to keep dry.

Again, it wasn't that he was using a notable amount of magic, but his mental acuity had been improving, too, due to his sessions with Iyashi, and made his water magic seem like much less of a conscious effort. Plus, the experience was a lot less volatile than his experience with fire magic, which was probably why his parents were a little more lenient about it, when he revealed that he could apparently use water magic, too.

When it came to studying earth magic, by that point, he'd already known Sakura for a year, and, after being allowed to watch her train (even if that included the occasional, usually playful spar she had with Naruto), that was when he felt confident enough to seriously try his hand at earth techniques, all the while trying to push down his growing irritation, time and again biting his tongue, at how often he had to be subjected to Naruto going on and on about—

Out of all the elements, he still feels the most comfortable using his shadow magic. It's what comes easiest to him, what he's always seemed to have the most affinity for, and what deepened the bond he shares with his brother, ultimately giving him the kind of connection he'd once been convinced they'd never be able to have.

It's so much more than the fact he now has magic, that he can better represent the legacy of his family, that incredibly simple sense of belonging that's allowed him to be the closest he's ever felt to normal, because having _shadow magic_, it's the closest he's ever felt to _Itachi_, and although he's not an actual shadow user, actually being able to learn shadow magic from his brother, being able to follow his brother in places where he wasn't able to go before, that's something that can never be taken away from him.

Having magic and becoming closer to his brother didn't necessarily change much of what happened outside their relationship, though. If anything, it almost felt like they were seeing even less of each other. During that time, Itachi was on the verge of transition, gradually being given less missions, but while he still had other responsibilities, including making up for the near indeterminate amount of leave he'd requested after the first time Sasuke had been admitted into Reife, as long as they could be together sometimes, that was okay, too.

"Is that enough for you to learn someone's technique?"

"...well, I guess...I think if I see someone's technique—like after what you showed me with your shadow magic, and seeing Naruto practice his wind magic—watching someone perform a technique, that makes it easier for me copy it."

"Oh?"

"Mm." Sasuke gave a slow nod, feet dangling from the edge of the bed, as he reached out with one hand to hold Itachi's that seemed so much to dwarf his own. "I still have to see it more than a couple times, but I think that's what helps me when I try to do it with my own magic. That's what makes it easier to do."

He yawned, fingers lightly tracing along the back of Itachi's hand, despite the material of his gloves between them, easily settling into the familiar comfort of his brother's cold. "I don't know why it always makes me feel so tired," he said, voice growing softer, as he leaned further into Itachi's side, eyes already falling closed, head drooped against Itachi's shoulder. "...but I'm okay, though."

He felt himself being gently lowered onto the bed, still not letting go of his brother's hand, at the feel of his legs being carefully lifted, moving his hand to grip Itachi's wrist, giving it a light squeeze.

"You should sleep."

"...I don't want you to leave."

"Sasuke..."

As the space beside him dipped beneath Itachi's weight, Sasuke slowly opened his eyes that nearly again fell closed, watching his brother lie down beside him.

"...if I don't go to sleep, will you stay with me?"

His brother raised his free hand between them, reaching to brush away the hair from Sasuke's face, offering a gentle smile. "Maybe next time."

"...you always say that. You always say next time. Why can't it ever be this time?"

"I'm sorry I can't stay with you tonight, but I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

The time they did spend together, whenever they did talk about magic, apart from discussing his potential to perform elemental magic, as he grew older, it also became an opportunity Itachi used to go a little more in depth teaching him beyond the basic mechanics of magic use, and to share his own shadow techniques, alongside the lesser-known concepts he'd gained through experience and learned from observation on the field, holding off on trying to explain the less practical and more theoretical applications until recently.

That's really been the extent of his formal training, which is probably saying a lot, considering just who his brother is, but the majority of what he's learned about magic, how he's come to understand it, he owes that to his brother.

Technically, how it's been defined scientifically at least, there are seven established transformation elements: fire, wind, lightning, earth, water, metal, and shadow. For the most part, though, magic users are officially separated into one of five major element classes: fire, wind, earth, water, and shadow.

Anything else is more or less considered a subclass, if only for the sake of simplicity, since the majority of magic users fall into one of the first four classes; being less common, lightning elementals are classed under fire, and both sand and metal elementals are classed under earth, those kinds of outliers. Even so, shadow still remains the least common class, with shadow users not only being exceedingly rare, but also lesser known, distinguished by a history of being neither acknowledged nor widely accepted.

However, being able to effectively manipulate an element, and to the degree an element can be manipulated, that correlates with a person's inherent magical ability, the range of their power.

For whatever reason, even within the Alliance, there's still this widespread misconception that simply having magic is what makes a magic user powerful, despite the studies that say that the average civilian adult magic user ranks a low D on their annual Registration.

Of course, there are different factors that go into consideration for Registration, but the standards also vary in industries when stats often do play a larger role, but in particular for military institutions, with the average magic user trainee from Nagi's academy placing between a high C and a low B, an average that includes even first years, without fail, making Nagi's academy one of the leading academies within the Alliance.

Naturally, for training and combat purposes, the military goes much more in depth to analyse a person's skill type and stats, which is where being classed with a certain element has much more significance.

One of the very first things his brother would stress, regardless of how he used his magic, was the importance of realising his own limitations and then learning to compensate for them, rather than relying on raw power alone.

Not that it's done much for Sasuke personally, especially since he's not allowed to use his magic during his spars with Naruto yet, but, like with nearly everything his brother's said, he accepted the advice without question; already, too many times he's seen examples of it, heard too many stories about people relying solely on their power, instead of taking into account something as basic as elemental skill type.

It's not necessarily that wielding a certain kind of magic poses a weaknesses, because any outcome ultimately depends on the individual skill of the magic user, but some element types do offer intrinsic advantages over others.

Fire-based attacks usually fare better against wind-based attacks, while being less effective against water based attacks. In the same vein, wind users have a recognised advantage over earth users, and, despite their disadvantage against fire-based attacks, they tend to be more sensitive to other magic signatures, which can also work as a countermeasure against fire users, who typically do have higher than average power levels.

There's a lot of room for nuance. Plenty of incentive to regularly incorporate a number of combat strategies involving direct physical contact, especially when acting solely on power or brute force doesn't automatically equate to having the upper hand; that's why trainees are taught to how to adapt and fight with whatever means at their disposable, trained to fight with and without their magic.

Elemental affinity can affect a magic user's main stats, too, enhancing their agility, endurance, physical strength, or power, all of which are a sizeable percentage of what's used when deciding rank.

Overall, wind and water elementals are more prone to scoring higher in agility and endurance, while fire and earth elementals are heavily linked with increases in strength and power.

Supposedly, shadow elementals are considered a balanced type, expected to have an above average increase in stats across the board, although there isn't enough information on record to conclusively prove that. It may be true for his brother, who was already classified as an S-level magic user before he even graduated the Academy. But with stats that have always been exceptionally high for his age, consistently high since his early acceptance into the Academy, that's hardly a fair starting point. Even with shadow magic, rare as that is, his brother's probably the exception, not the rule.

(And even if his brother didn't have shadow magic, if he had any other element, there's no doubt in his mind that Itachi would be just as powerful.)

Same goes for Naruto. As a wind elemental, he doesn't seem to be that far behind. Although he hasn't quite reached Itachi's level, he's quickly on his way to becoming a veritable powerhouse, growing increasingly versatile and much more proficient with his magic; he has enough control now that he can create a small wind barrier that encloses him in a protective shield, even if he's only able to hold it for a few minutes, but he's also learned how to better use the air around him to his advantage, even against fire-based attacks, can actually snuff smaller fires out.

Whatever his true stats are, of course there won't be any official documentation kept on file. There can't be. Even without Kyuubi, he already receives more than enough attention for scoring on the higher end of above average for his class, on top of the interest he's drawn simply for being Namikaze Minato's son.

Where Naruto would truly rank if he didn't have to hold back, there's probably no way to determine that without Kyuubi's influence, anyway. Between the two of them, their magic is just that closely intertwined. That's how well-matched they actually are.

Surprisingly, Naruto's never gone up against Itachi. He's asked Naruto about it, if he's ever considered training under Itachi, or at least considering asking Itachi to take their spars more seriously, rather than the mock matches they've had in the past.

_"Are you crazy?"_

_"For asking a question?"_

_"Well, I mean, that kind of question—get back to me in a few years, maybe. If even that. Why are you even asking, anyway? Is this your way of saying you're going to be the one to hide my body?"_

_"What—no. I just think it'd be interesting to watch."_

_"...interesting to watch, he says. All the things I've done for your sake, and this is all my life means to you?"_

_"You know it's not that. It's just, you and Itachi, you're the strongest people I know."_

_"...I can't believe you're actually giving me a compliment."_

_"Naruto..."_

_"Eh, I already asked him."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yeah. He turned me down. But I get it. With the way I am now, he said he knows I can't keep up with him yet. I'm still at a level where it wouldn't do me any good if he has to hold back."_

_"But I've seen you. How are you not..."_

_"Nah, he's right. I've felt some of it before, his magic, and even then he was barely giving anything off. I think, if I had to take him on as a serious opponent, I'd probably have to tap into Kyuubi for help on that one._

_"But I told him to give me another year, so there's always that, too. Training, though, we really do have different fighting styles, which is probably what he meant when he said I'd get more out of it by not having to hold back._

_"I know you've never seen Itachi go all out—not saying I've seen it, either—but he got that S rank for a reason, you know._

_"Ask Sakura. No, seriously. I already knew Itachi had a reputation on base, from when he used to be one the instructors heading the advanced combat classes, but Sakura said he's a real hard ass. And she would know. Itachi's the one who trained her when she transferred here."_

For security reasons, among others, the Academy doesn't keep footage of what happens in any of the training areas, or at least it doesn't release anything like that for public consumption, but he's seen some of his brother's techniques, and he's heard enough stories about his brother's time at the Academy, so he doesn't question the S ranking, or why so many of his matches been abrupt, all but finished almost as soon as they began.

Still, it's one thing to hear how powerful his brother is, to even see glimpses into how powerful Naruto has the potential to be. It's another thing entirely to be able to experience that kind of power for himself.

Compared to last year, he's lucky he gets to do even this much with his brother and Naruto, really, so it's not that he isn't grateful he's been allowed to train with either of them, to any extent, yet with the training he's had so far, being limited to defensive techniques, with anything physical not involving magic at all, he just wants to be able to do _more_.

Itachi just keeps telling him not to be so impatient. And he isn't. Or at least he's not trying to be.

Since his birthday, for the past few weeks, their most recent training sessions have consisted of mental exercises, in between practicing kata, focusing mostly on defensive stances, practicing mindfulness, purposeful breathing, with the supposed goal of laying down a better foundation, in the event he ever were to find himself in a position where he couldn't avoid confrontation—rather, another much less subtle attempt to steer him away from relying so heavily on his life magic, because, really, that's been the express purpose of this from the get-go, to help keep inconspicuous the fact that he has elemental magic, too.

But that patience has paid off. Apparently, everything they've been doing was in preparation for teaching him how to wield a sword—his own sword, that Itachi had commissioned and modified especially for him.

He's always wanted to learn (never mind that swords are also his brother's preferred weapon of choice). He just didn't think his parents would've signed off on something like this any time soon, not with the way they reacted to his elemental magic.

Itachi gave him the sword last week, right before he had to leave for another mission off world. Tempting as it is to get a closer look for himself , he still has to wait for Itachi to come back to actually do anything with it; he's not allowed to use it yet, much less take it out of the glass case, but just having the sword is more than enough to hold him over until then.

At first glance, it really doesn't look like much, when the blade's retracted, seemingly more like a starter weapon, the kind by design intended not to cause harm, or even one of those overpriced knockoffs that could've been picked up from any shop. Yet given the fact he's never had any kind of weapon before, and that he wasn't even expecting this, he's appreciative all the same.

It's just a little different than what he initially had in mind, the more sleek kinds of curved swords he's seen from the bulk his brother's collection. For one, it's retractable. Fully extended, the single-edge sword looks dull, almost blunt, the type better suited for defensive moves. The blade's shorter and a little wider. It's straighter, too, whereas his brother's typical sword has a much more noticeable curvature near the blade's point.

It's still nice, though, a near impeccable piece of work. Even looking through the glass, taking in all the minute details, the demonstrated skill of whoever made it, the quality is undeniable.

The blade itself was forged by hand, from a rare metal alloy, flexible, highly durable despite its light weight. The style of the hilt falls somewhat on the more unorthodox side, but it also makes for a convenient size, discreet, in the sense that it makes the sword appear more decorative than functional.

Receiving it as gift from his brother, that was a touching gesture on its own. What made it humbling, was the reason for making the sword, the concept behind it, inspired by a throwaway comment he once made about one of Kakashi's techniques he'd seen, a comment his brother apparently thought was interesting enough to do something about—from that simple idea alone, simply the kind of thought his brother had put into doing something like this for him.

_"I had hoped you could use it to help channel your elemental magic."_

_"...what do you mean?"_

_"The sword should be strong enough to withstand your magic, with the blade itself acting as a conduit._

_"Do really think something like that would work?"_

_"I don't expect it to happen overnight. It'll take time to experiment and see how to effectively put that into practice, although what I'm probably most curious about, is how your lightning magic will affect the properties of the alloy, specifically to what extent high-frequency vibrations can increase the sharpness of the blade."_

_"Nii-san, I..."_

_"Again, that's something we can work towards as we go along. Since you're more comfortable with your fire magic, I think that may be easier for you."_

_"...you didn't have to do this. You didn't have to do any of this—it's too much. It's too—"_

_"Sasuke, it's fine. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to have it finished in time for your birthday. But I did want to surprise you."_

_"No, this is...this really is..._

_"...thank you."_

He was still a little hesitant at first, despite his brother's quiet excitement while presenting the sword to him, because it did feel like too much, like he hadn't done enough to deserve it.

But it's hard not to compare himself to his brother. He can't help it. As much as he still looks up to his brother, as much as it feels like almost everything he does is just some misguided attempt to be just like him, that's something he's not sure he'll ever truly be able to get over.

Even Naruto calls him out on it. He's only teasing, of course, because somehow he thinks something like that can still be called cute, but the words aren't so easy to brush off anymore, not when they augment an already uneasy truth.

The kinds of sacrifices his brother has made for him, continues to make for him. The lengths he's gone, renouncing a once promising, more fulfilling career, simply for his sake.

He doesn't actually know what his brother does exactly, but he knows the name Uchiha Itachi goes a long way in a lot of circles: among all the branches in their family, on base, seemingly right through the entire Alliance.

Ever since Itachi began petitioning for his current stay on Nagi, though, he's just here and there, with any official-sounding titles and corresponding responsibilities constantly in flux, and any openings in between easily labelled as classified.

On the surface, it looks like he does a lot of office work, paperwork about this and that, mostly things that allow him to stay on base, allowing him to stay closer to home.

Not that he isn't still assigned missions, but they're nothing like the long duty tours he used to take when he'd be deployed off world, gone for weeks at a times, all those late nights he'd wait for Itachi to return, from time to time, their mom even allowing him to stay up a little longer, just so he could be the first one to welcome his brother home.

Then, during the days he practically lived in his brother's old trainee jacket, the days he used to believe someday he'd get a jacket of his very own, he wasn't aware of what any of it meant, the kind of dangers his brother had to put himself in.

Later, however, he began to recognise something off in his brother's eyes, despite the tenderness of his brother's smile, despite his own sensitivity, in dark eyes, something so very _tired_, the beginnings of an unease he couldn't understand, so instead he'd pick up his feet, walk a little faster to meet the arms that reached around him, as his brother kneeled down to hold him, trying to pull his brother closer, with his empathy, trying to fix a hurt he couldn't even see.

And yet the near drastic decrease in missions hasn't prevented Itachi from training to an extensive degree. For a purported pencil pusher seemingly surrounded by paperwork, unlike many of his older colleagues, well-regarded officers similar in stature, his appearance and fitness level haven't really changed, and he remains current with all the necessary certifications that would have him qualified for the field, ready to be sent out at a moment's notice.

Those certifications go for weapon use, too. According to public information readily available on base, he's in top form, if not better than he was during his Academy days, with an extremely high accuracy rate with the standard, military firearms issued to enlistees.

He's still adept with a multitude of weapons, very much still adept with the kinds of short-ranged weapons he usually favours. Short swords and long swords, knives and daggers—scary good with anything ridiculously sharp and pointy, as Naruto would say.

However, having shadow magic and favouring those kinds of weapons, that easily lends itself to a particular skill set. And because of it, at the very least, he's probably been asked to take on some kind stealth-related mission. With all accolades to show for it, time and again, he's demonstrated his dedication to the Alliance, sometimes seemingly even at the expense of the family name.

Having the cloaking technique alone, logically, it just makes sense. Regardless of the stigma still attached to shadow users, simply having the ability to perform shadow magic would prove invaluable for certain covert operations, absolutely for information gathering, and certainly in a highly specialised field that wouldn't shy away from espionage.

Even Naruto agrees. Overactive imagination aside, there are things Naruto knows now, things Naruto isn't able to tell him (what he hopes aren't things Naruto simply won't tell him). While it's frustrating that he has no choice but to accept it, he's not going to discount whatever insight Naruto might offer; Naruto already told him about people already claiming that Ibiki, an executive officer rumoured to work for one of _the_ three intelligence agencies in Nagi, was probably going to try to recruit Shikamaru for the intelligence divisions, so it wasn't a stretch to think a well-known prodigy like Itachi would've fallen into someone's purview during his time at the Academy.

Because he knows there are sides to his brother he doesn't get to see, parts of his life that his brother will probably never let him see.

And then there's the matter of his brother's void technique, which is just as ominous as it sounds. He's never actually seen it, but his brother has been open enough about it, not quite relaying he wouldn't be averse to teaching him someday in the future.

It sounds incredibly powerful, though, nearly inconceivable, essentially this near impenetrable technique that can apparently negate the effects of magic, all but cancelling out the abilities of another magic user, by transmitting his own magical energy to deflect and disperse other magic attacks, effectively rendering them useless.

As well, it takes an incredible amount of stamina to both execute properly and simply maintain, which is probably why his brother never showed him, never gave him an opportunity to try to emulate it on his own.

(Even disregarding his lack of stamina, it's a technique that involves a combination of power and technical finesse he clearly doesn't have. And with his limited reserves, the very reason he relies so heavily on his life magic, simply because he has a larger pool to pull from, that acts as a single source, as opposed to how much more difficult it is to try to consistently wade through the comparatively shallow pool that is his elemental magic, consisting of multiple sources.)

No, taking into consideration who his brother is, the simplest answer, the simplest connotations of having that particular skill set, sheer on the scale of possibilities, the kinds of things so easily his brother could get away with doing, he's not that naive. Not like he used to be. He doesn't even see himself as cynical for thinking it's plausible. And even if he did ask about it, even if he wanted to ask, he already knows his brother won't admit to anything like that.

How could he?

Either way, knowing wouldn't change anything. With all the things his brother's done for him, to even ask him something like that, to even put into question everything his brother's given up for him, he couldn't hurt his brother like that. He couldn't do that to him.

Besides, supposing any speculation does hold some kind of truth, it wouldn't make him think any less of Itachi for it—nothing would change the way he feels about him. Itachi is his brother. That's all he's ever needed. That's all he's ever cared about.

The other, more crucial takeaway is that he's learning from one of the very best, being taught by someone both highly lauded and sought-after for their expertise, receiving the kind of personal training a lot of people would probably do a number of questionable things for.

Of course, under his circumstances, he doesn't doubt his brother is much more forgiving when it comes to his training. Still, as...overly concerned as his brother tends to be about his wellbeing, that doesn't mean Itachi will coddle him, or that he won't hold him accountable for his actions, something Naruto somehow still can't seem to wrap his head around.

Even with him, his brother can be pretty strict at times, in some respects, much more so than their parents. Training with him has been no exception. Although he does enjoy it, if only because it presents another opportunity to spend time with his brother, whatever they do is what his brother decides, because his brother has the final say. And that's it.

It's almost like going up against a brick wall, really, which is exactly what it feels like during any sort of practice with him, despite the fact most of his training still centres around building beyond basic self-defence techniques. It's a little demoralising even, the handful to times he did get to experiment with more offensive techniques, again and again, seeing just how very ineffective those kinds of attacks are against his brother, who doesn't even seem to budge, absolutely refuses to move, no matter what he tries to throw at him.

However, if training with his brother is like being pitted against is an unmovable object, then training with Naruto is like being pitted against an unstoppable force.

Ever since he told Naruto, from the start, Naruto's been supportive about it, actually excited about finally getting the chance to spar together. It was a little surprising, honestly, especially since they could only spar without using magic, but even that didn't seem to be enough to discourage Naruto, who couldn't wait to take him to one of the trainee facilities on campus.

(Then again, Naruto's also been extremely generous in not bringing up the increasingly widening gap in between them, how much more he's been able to progress, how very substantial it is, all the experience Sasuke simply lacks.)

He still likes it, though, being able to have that kind of physical outlet, just being able to share something like this with Naruto, even if Naruto's only been doing it to appease him, more or less, but it's not exactly like he has choice in sparring partners, that he'd be able to find someone similar to him, never mind anyone he'd eventually be able to use his elemental magic against.

He already knows he doesn't pose a challenge to Naruto. He just doesn't know what Naruto's getting out of this arrangement, why he even was so happy about it in the first place, as much as Naruto's tried to assure him that he really does like being able to spar with him. Yet, for someone like Naruto, there is absolutely no way anything constructive can come from the two of them sparring on a level this low.

Sure, he can acknowledge that Naruto's strong, much stronger than him, in regards to his magic or otherwise, but that doesn't take much to admit because that's already a given. Naruto's always been ahead of him. And, just like with Itachi, he couldn't help but look up to Naruto, too.

There's probably a part of him that's always admired Naruto, reluctantly at first, well before they were friends, before they started to get along, because the kinds of things he'd hear people say in praise of Itachi, he would hear people say the same about Naruto, too, all the things at such a young age Naruto could already do.

(As often as his mom and Kushina had tried to encourage them to be friends, it was hard to ignore the way people around him would talk about Naruto; since Naruto was only a year older, naturally, it didn't take much for Sasuke to start making his own comparisons, especially when it'd already been determined he wouldn't develop empathy, and any hope that he'd be like the rest of his family, that he could grow up to be like his brother, that he'd turn out to be normal, was thrown out the window.

Comparing himself to Naruto, it wasn't as bad as being constantly compared to Itachi, through no choice of his own, having to live in his brother's shadow, but when his empathy did manifest, when he did develop magic he could call his own, at the realisation he still wouldn't be able to catch up with either of them, somehow, that just seemed to make everything worse.)

Since being accepted into the Academy, Naruto hasn't stopped looking ahead, but he hasn't stopped waiting for him, either, despite with each year how much farther away he seems, even if that means Sasuke has to keep pushing himself that much further just to ensure he won't be left behind.

Where he is now, he doesn't expect to surpass Naruto in a lot of things, doesn't suspect that he ever will, but, at least one day, he wants to be able to stand beside him, to be someone Naruto can actually depend on. The way Naruto's always been there to protect him, to take care of him—yes, he wants to get stronger for himself, to prove isn't so helpless anymore, but being able to take care of someone else, being able to protect them, he wants do those same things for Naruto, too.

The only problem is, Naruto doesn't see it that way.

In too many ways, it still feels like Naruto just sees him as someone he's obligated to protect, someone he long ago decided he has to put first. Now that they're older, he's been a little better about trying to give him more space, not so blatantly eager to jump in situations Sasuke can handle by himself.

Over time, though, that's just something Sasuke's come to accept, because it's not fair to expect Naruto to be anything but the kind of person he is, the kind of person he willingly became for him. Sparring together has had little, if any, kind of effect whatsoever on that mindset.

There's no point in asking Naruto not to hold back. It was a condition that was essentially implied, didn't even need to be said. Of course he's going to hold back. As playful as he usually is during their sessions, he's always careful not to push him too hard, not to ask of him too much.

In terms of stats, (in terms of pretty much everything, really), clearly, Naruto has the advantage. Even without his abilities being enhanced by Kyuubi's magic, it's almost a sure thing that he outranks most magic users his age, definitely his own graduating class at the Academy; learning to harness that kind of raw power didn't come easy, or quick, but, after all the hard work he had to put in, it shows.

Going up against Naruto, as fast as Naruto is, innate agility is probably his only saving grace, although, even then, he knows the only reason he's been able somewhat keep up with Naruto is because of the effort Naruto puts into restraining himself. His agility on its own is still not enough to give him any sort of edge.

But at least it's an opportunity for him to become stronger, to gain the kind experience he wouldn't be able to receive otherwise, despite what Naruto may not get out of it, because he really does like sparring with Naruto. It's as fun as it can be frustrating, but he's learned a lot from in the short time they've been doing this.

One of the best things about having Naruto as a partner and as a mentor, as someone so unpredictable, is that he genuinely does want him to improve, as much as he's been able, likes to make him work for each attempted hit, make him think off the cuff. Even after gaining a better understanding of Naruto's fighting style and how Naruto employs the techniques he's shown him, that's not much use when trying to prepare beforehand, because Naruto's rather intuitive when it comes to impromptu strategies, living in the heat of the moment, practically thrives on it, during his spars that Sasuke's seen, notably quick on his feet, which really is saying something, considering how often Sasuke's seen him trip over said feet.

Naruto's always been a hands-on kind of guy, though. That's just how he learns, by doing, and that's why Sasuke took it upon himself to help Naruto study for the Academy's entrance exams, helping Naruto with the material he had a little more trouble understanding.

But when it comes to fighting, Naruto really is in his element. Despite Sasuke's own misgivings about the situation, he can tell how much Naruto loves it, and he's sort of picked up on some of Naruto's fighting style, taking from it bits and pieces of what he liked, while trying to develop a style of his own.

Another benefit from sparring with Naruto, because he feels comfortable around him, he also feels more comfortable taking more risks, experimenting with moves he probably wouldn't have thought to try, despite the fact he's rarely able to follow through.

With how much Naruto is purposely holding back, that typically puts Sasuke on the offensive, allows him to set the tempo of their sessions. That's why their sessions typically don't last that long. He doesn't tire so easily anymore (not to the point where he can't even make the walk from his bedroom to the bathroom on the other side of the hall—the one time he only made it halfway and his mom found him lying on the floor), but he simply doesn't have the stamina for even their moderate sessions, much less Naruto's level of stamina, which is better suited to the kind of lengthy, more intensive spars he's able to have with his squad and other trainees.

Although Naruto says it's more so because he has a really bad habit of leaving himself wide open too much, way too open while trying to track an opponent's moves, which Naruto doesn't hesitate to point out, even while they're in the middle of sparring, often accusing him of being entirely too reckless for a guy who doesn't even have the appropriate amount of basic survival sense.

_"Attack's not going to matter when you keep making the same kinds of mistakes. And maybe some of it is just part of your magic. I get that much. But at some point you really need to stop following the wrong instincts, and start learning how to listen to the ones for self-preservation properly."_

At the same time, however, the other drawback about sparring with Naruto, at least on Sasuke's part, because he does feel so comfortable with him, because of how well he does know Naruto, he also knows Naruto would never intentionally do anything to hurt him.

Admittedly, it's something he doesn't mean to take for granted, but it's never even crossed his mind, that hard to fathom, this seemingly impossible notion that Naruto could be anything other than _safe_. It's not even something he has to say out loud anymore, something Naruto already knows, something Naruto's never held against him. Of all people, Naruto wouldn't do that to him—Naruto wouldn't hurt him.

By extension, Kyuubi wouldn't hurt him, either. Even if he had any desire to, apparently, he _can't_.

Even that day Naruto had tried to run away, when he first realised where Kyuubi was, when, somehow, he just _knew_, as he placed his hand over Naruto's own, as he made Kyuubi's magic recede, with a simple touch, healing Naruto while he soothed Kyuubi, restoring around them the area Kyuubi had laid waste to, even then, settling into a biting calm, Kyuubi didn't try to hurt him.

While Kyuubi wasn't pleased about his presence, he still made sure to acknowledge him, with a grudging respect, gave the slightest bow of his head, with an annoyed huff, lips curled into a snarl, but it was then and there, in Naruto's consciousness, in those seconds few, they quickly came to a sort of silent understanding over the one immediate thing they seemingly had in common, namely their attachment to Naruto.

(Regardless of what Kyuubi may or may not feel towards him, unquestionably, overwhelmingly, does he trust Kyuubi to look out for Naruto, when Naruto can't—_won't_—look out for himself.)

Being stared down by an enormous nine-tailed fox, however, the one evidently housed in Naruto's consciousness, based on Kyuubi's size alone, he doesn't know whether or not he should've been afraid in that moment, but there was nothing about Kyuubi, either then or now, that gave him any reason to be scared.

There's always been something that feels familiar about him, this vague sense of nostalgia for a time he almost remembers, like a memory from a dream, comforting in a way, almost warm, strangely enough, as abrasive as Kyuubi usually tends to be.

Although, considering Kyuubi's deep-seated hatred towards humans (save for Naruto), the kinds of things he's said that Naruto won't repeat, why Kyuubi still seems to respond to his life magic, why Kyuubi's actions seem to constantly contradict the open dislike Kyuubi's expressed towards him, or even why Kyuubi should feel so apprehensive, he doesn't know. Neither of them knows. Whatever the connection between them is supposed to mean, it's probably buried in Kyuubi's past, the same place where he lost his name.

Despite Kyuubi's wariness of him, he doesn't feel any need to appeal to Kyuubi. Apart from Naruto, he's the only person Kyuubi seems willing to speak to, anyway, so Kyuubi will engage with him whenever he feels like it, without promoting, will actively seek him out on occasion, even with Naruto only a few metres away, when he becomes more aware of Kyuubi's presence, completely separate from Naruto, when he notices these sort of awkward nudges, in the back of his mind, frequently paired with an impatient tug, before a warmth washes over him, Kyuubi resting comfortably beneath the sway of his magic.

After Kyuubi did a few more times, as it started to become a pattern, when he told Naruto about it, Naruto could barely contain his laughter.

"Kyuubi, he—that's...that's funny," Naruto managed to get out between large breaths. "And now he's getting cranky and acting like he doesn't want to talk to me anymore."

"Probably because you won't stop laughing at him." Sasuke frowned. "I don't mind that Kyuubi does it. I'm just wondering what it means"

"Oh, that's just his backwards way of checking up on you. He kind of has this thing about making sure you're okay, you know."

Sasuke gives Naruto a flat stare. "He doesn't like me."

"Yeah, it's something like that—although he says a lot of things that don't exactly add up, so I don't really get it, either." Naruto lifted his arm, raising his hand near the back of his neck, finger scratching behind his ear. "Definitely, he gets a little weird about it sometimes, about you and your life magic, but I know he wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. Not if he can help it."

"With how close you and Kyuubi are, wouldn't that have more to do with you and me?"

Lowering his arm, Naruto shrugged. "Some of it, yeah, probably, but it's not just because of me. Even without me, Kyuubi still gets really, really touchy about you. So, uh, yeah. He doesn't know why, either, but that's what it is, I guess."

"Like I said, I don't mind. You know that's how my empathy works, anyway. I was just wondering."

"He's just as bad as you when it comes to emotions. Because you both act you don't know how to use those things called _words_. Seriously, I don't get why it's so hard for the two of you to be honest about your feelings, and just say what you actually mean."

Knowing he probably wouldn't be alone, Sasuke chose to walk himself out of that conversation, leaving Naruto behind, ignoring the words that followed him, Naruto shouting out to him the fact that he was walking away only proved his point.

Maybe that means he and Kyuubi have something else in common, but Kyuubi's also pure magic, a living embodiment of _raw magic_, whose power doesn't even leave Naruto unscathed.

Having life magic, whatever difference that seems to make, the fact that Kyuubi couldn't hurt Sasuke, wouldn't hurt him—the one time Naruto had tried to ask him more about it, Kyuubi even bristled, all but snarled at Naruto, as if the mere thought of the question was a personal affront, in the rare instance he spoke over Naruto, addressing Sasuke directly.

_Sachi will always be Shakti. And you are Sachi. You are _Sachi_._

_There are many things I should believe myself capable of doing, in the past, many things I believe I may have done, yet to cause you harm Sachi, that, I cannot do—that, I would _never_ do._

_Never would I even _think_ it._

As adamant as Kyuubi had been, it's no surprise Kyuubi wants nothing to do with his and Naruto's spars. He hasn't said anything against it, or at least, to him, Kyuubi hasn't given any opinion about it, if he has one.

He and Naruto probably don't spar often enough to keep Kyuubi's attention. It usually happens when he's staying with his brother, which happens every other week, at best, and only when Naruto isn't busy; when he's with his parents at the Capital, even with either Neji or Sai with him, the only place he's been consistently allowed to visit is Iyashi's office.

The times they do get to spar, though, Naruto likes to take him to one of the smaller recreational facilities on the Academy's campus, the Vega, where a lot of the Academy's trainees and civilian students hang out during their down time, but what it has is a little more exclusive: an area only approved, prospective candidates for the SFTI programme have access to, the only recreational facility on campus that offers an entire floor devoted to rooms with flight simulation chambers.

(At this point, Naruto's practically a shoo-in for the SFTI programme. He already passed the preliminary for the intermediate pilot exam, is already working towards getting his provisional military licence, having already proved himself fully capable of flying small fighter ships on his own, without indirect supervision.

Everything Naruto's accomplished, everything he continues to do, how hard he's been working to achieve his dream, he couldn't be prouder of Naruto for it. Just being able to see the smile on Naruto's face, how happy Naruto had been, that day Naruto nearly bowled him over in his excitement, barely contained, when he blurted out the news that he'd passed, grabbing Sasuke in a tight hug, in a partial spin, nearly lifting him off the floor.

In another lifetime, maybe he could've had the opportunity to experience that, too, maybe he could've...

Fortunately, despite his own restricted access as a guest, he still has Naruto's code to use the flight simulator chambers, since prospective SFTI candidates are allowed to have plus-ones, if they pass the qualifications; it's a measure probably meant to recruit more trainees, but it's a bit of a silver lining, in the sense that he gets clock in hours under Naruto's number.

To be fair, though, the hours themselves don't count towards actual credit hours, only used to keep track of machine use, which is fine, because Naruto's always there with him, anyway.)

The two larger recreational facilities have a broader range of dedicated training equipment, alongside both a pool and gym indoors, as well as designated outdoor areas for sparring rings, obstacle courses (a host of things, to say the least), so those tend to be more popular, still relatively crowded even outside of peak hours.

The Vega doesn't have as many amenities, but, like seemingly every building on base, it's still a highly secure facility. It's not the kind of place where anyone can just go in and out, with access each trainee recreational facility treated as a privilege that can easily be taken away.

It helps that the Academy has a two-strike disciplinary system, with the first strike putting a trainee on mandatory probation, which includes the immediate suspension a trainee's access to all recreational facilities; and the second strike leading not only to expulsion from Nagi's academy, but also barring that trainee from any applying to or even working for any other government institution in the Alliance, pretty much blacklisting them and destroying whatever prospect they may once had for a military career.

It's not the perfect deterrent, but it is part of the culture that works to keep the base safe, harsh enough that the need for that level of disciplinary action is very rare; among trainees, there's also the implicit understanding that they are expected to police themselves, based on mutual responsibility, part of the group mentality that encourages them to keep each other in check, hold each other accountable, before anyone's behaviour would even escalate to the stage where action is required.

Although living on base is safe enough that his parents agreed to his brother's offer to take him in, Naruto's the one who takes him to the Vega, even though he technically can get in on his own, having a guest pass sponsored under Naruto's name—with a lot of things, recently, he's noticed, as long as he's with Naruto, his parents don't seem to mind as much, especially with the kinds things they were so opposed to giving him permission to do before.

Even with such a high percentage of trainees being magic users, though, being seen on campus isn't a big deal anymore, if it ever was. Apart from maybe the occasional curious glance or two, simply showing up with Naruto isn't enough to turn heads. The staff and security at Vega know them, know him. Everyone else, for the most, keeps to themselves.

They still don't have chance to spar that much, but they sort of have a system going for them; they try to plan as much in advance, around his appointments with Iyashi and Naruto's schedule, with Naruto reserving one of the small, private multipurpose rooms, for a timeslot late in the afternoon.

There is one room in particular that Naruto likes, however, and he'll try to book it whenever he can, from another cadet, even traded in an owed favour for it, once or twice.

"Because of the mats," was all he said about it at first, stretching his arms over his head, as Sasuke continued to stretch his legs beside him. "That's why it's always the first room to go. Everybody knows about the mats."

"The mats?"

"For some reason, it feels like the mats are a lot more cushy there."

Initially, he thought Naruto was just exaggerating, because, well, Naruto tends to exaggerate (something Naruto himself will even own up to), and it didn't seem like a preferences for mats could make that much of a difference.

Now, though, now he's quickly beginning to understand the apparent popularity behind room 326.

"Again."

"Sasuke..."

"Don't, Naruto. I can do this. Just..."

Naruto raises his eyebrows, although he doesn't say anything, stands unguarded, as he watches Sasuke slowly pick himself up from the matted floor. He doesn't offer to help, either, as his eyes narrow, doesn't move to help, despite the slight tension in his shoulders, the slight twitch in his right hand he keeps at his side.

Beneath Naruto's scrutinising stare, Sasuke breathes out, closes his mouth, swallows, holding Naruto's gaze, as he stands on his own. He readies his stance, spreads his feet a little further apart, anchoring his weight on his back heel.

Even having to acknowledge how much stronger Naruto is, even without magic, how much Naruto's still purposely holding back, he's still determined to hold out for as long as he can, because he's going to do this on his own terms—he needs to do this.

Naruto may not be taking this seriously, but the way he used to be, Sasuke can't go back to that. He _won't_ allow himself to go back to that.

He's tired of only being seen as someone who needs to be protected, like he'll never be capable of fending for himself, that he can't do anything on his own, bound by the assumption that he'll always be someone else's responsibility, all because of something he can't even change—he's just tired of constantly being treated like he's we—

"All right, then." Naruto gives a slow, backwards roll of his shoulders, cocking his head from one side to the other, cracking his neck. He raises his hands in front of his chest, alternating between fists to crack his knuckles, a force of habit rather than a show of force.

Hand-to-hand is easily Naruto's forte, where he really shines. He prefers to fight with his fists, whether he's using magic or not, and although he's not the type to needlessly show off, he knows how to use that specialty to his advantage. With his stamina and reserves, with the sheer breadth of the power at his disposal, the longer he goes, usually the better the odds are in his favour.

There's a flicker in Naruto's gaze, as he lowers his hands, a fleeting emotion that briefly shades his eyes a darker blue. The stance he takes is different, though. Up until now, he's been taking a more defensive position during their spars, in between the occasional counterattack, on the whole, following Sasuke's pace, with Sasuke still yet to get in an earnest hit that Naruto hasn't been able to either block or evade.

"You ready?"

Sasuke gives a slight nod. "Again."

Deeply, Naruto breathes in, takes a moment, with the slow fall of his chest, takes a deep breath out.

And then, Naruto's right on him, lunging without warning, suddenly there, before Sasuke has time to blink, Naruto suddenly right in front of him—harder, going at him, despite the still evident restraint, steadfast in his assault, giving him no quarter, attacking from the front, exploiting where Sasuke's left open from the side, giving him no choice but to be on the defensive, closer and closer, quickly edging Sasuke towards the wall.

He sees the back of Naruto's hand aiming at his side, catches the movement of Naruto's body in his peripheral—too late, he recognises the feint, as Naruto sweeps him off his feet, knocking him off-balance with a knee pressed against the inside of his leg, Naruto's palm striking his chest, his other hand gripping Sasuke's side, as he pushes Sasuke to the floor.

His back hits the mat, seems to make a loud smack that reverberates throughout the room, and does little to cushion his landing, after the umpteenth time of being thrown down.

Already moving to slow Sasuke's fall, Naruto follows with him, lands without falling on top of him, keeps him pinned down with hands that hold Sasuke's arms to the mat, hold them on either side of Sasuke's head, with a knee planted across Sasuke legs, keeping him subdued.

"Yield, Sasuke."

Gritting his teeth, Sasuke starts to push up, tries to shove him off, bucks against Naruto's weight that won't move.

"_Yield._"

Lips drawn tight, Naruto stares down at him, reflected in blue eyes an infuriately calm resolve.

Sasuke swallows, breathes in as his mouth parts, breathing out too harsh, still struggling against Naruto's arms caging him in, Naruto's hands pressing down a little harder on him, because if there's a point Naruto's trying to make, he doesn't want it to be _this_.

Naruto remains unrelenting, against Sasuke's next attempt to get from underneath him, giving Sasuke's arms another firm squeeze, without applying too much pressure, applies just enough for emphasis.

This time, however, Sasuke doesn't try to get up. He lets his head fall back, lets his eyes fall closed, breathes out with a huff, chest heaving. His limbs turn loose, body turned lax, as he just lies there, trying to catch his breath.

Seemingly satisfied, Naruto finally decides to let up, moving his leg and releasing Sasuke's wrists.

"...hey."

Sasuke feels the air to the left of him shift, with the low rustle of fabric, the sound of Naruto shuffling beside him, feels the brief brush of Naruto's knee against the outside of his thigh.

"You still alive down there?"

At the finger poking his shoulder, Sasuke gives a low hum, opens his eyes, gazed fixed on the plain, near pristine white ceiling. "You proved your point."

"Well, I wasn't trying to prove a point, but I will say you lasted longer than last time. Longer than you usually do."

Slowly, Sasuke turns his head from the ceiling, turning his gaze blank towards Naruto.

"And you're doing a lot better overall."

"Naruto..."

Objectively, that's what he wants to think, too, that these past few months haven't been all for nothing, and yet, even receiving that kind of praise from Naruto, or maybe since because he's hearing it from Naruto, the words feel more placating than anything, don't do much to detract from a continued sense of disappointment that often renders him numb, every so often an agitation that echoes his own resentment at the thought of everything he does being so utterly useless, because some days it still feels as if he's made no progress at all.

No matter what he does, it's still not enough, feels like it'll never be enough. Despite how hard he's been training, deliberately pushing well past his own limitations, limitations everyone seems so quick to remind him of, in his efforts to catch up to Naruto, almost every time, it just feels like he's fallen that much further behind.

He doesn't want to think he's really so pathetic, but he can't help but wonder if one day Naruto will ever stop looking back, will ever stop waiting for him, even in the face of all the promises Naruto still likes to make, that he'll eventually just decide to move on, already established in a world that had long ago grown beyond Sasuke's reach.

"No, I mean it. You're getting a lot better," Naruto says, his voice firm, seemingly so assured in his own words. "You really are."

With a sigh, Sasuke begins to sit up. It takes a moment, somewhat longer than he wants to admit, because he's still a little winded, but he manages enough to prop himself up by the wall, all but sagged against it, crossing his legs, staring straight ahead, arms dropped over his lap.

"You're getting pretty fast, too."

Sasuke glances at Naruto from the corner of his eye. "...you're still faster."

"Yeah, I am still faster than you, but I think you're conveniently forgetting just how hard you can actually hit." Naruto pauses, seemingly mulling over his own words. "Which is a little too hard for my tastes, to be honest."

Sasuke snorts.

"I mean, I've been hit by you before," Naruto says, wry. "And since I'm not really trying to get hit by you again..."

He shifts to scoot himself closer, sitting in front of Sasuke. Raising his hand, carefully, he takes hold of Sasuke's chin, just as careful guiding Sasuke's face towards him, with a gaze that meets Sasuke's own, blue eyes searching, silently assessing, displaying the rare kind of seriousness he usually saves for moments like this, a gentle sort of stern, relaying an unspoken demand for Sasuke to let him see.

Sasuke leans a little forward, unconsciously leans closer towards the touch, against the dark grey material of the fingerless glove covering Naruto's palm.

He knows better than to try to fight Naruto on this. By now, it's more or less just routine, Naruto simply doing what he's always done, caught between trying not to appear too obvious with his concern, and trying to make sure Sasuke's not so exhausted that he'll become more susceptible to his magic or his empathy.

Still, it can be a little annoying at times, unnecessary, too, even though he knows Naruto only means well, because it almost feels like Naruto's expecting something to be wrong. He doesn't fault Naruto for it, but it's a continuous reminder of all those times when so many things did go wrong, when it felt like almost anything was enough to set off an empathetic attack, without his brother or Naruto beside him, those days he was afraid of falling asleep, afraid of his own shadow, even when he felt safer being alone.

(Admittedly, against both their better judgments, if only to make him feel better, Naruto's probably indulged him with a lot of things, too many things probably, but whenever a situation does involve his magic or his empathy, more and more, Naruto's becoming like Itachi and especially hard to sway.)

But he's fine.

He's always been okay with Naruto.

"...you keep saying you're fine, you know. Even when you probably aren't. When you don't have to be."

"I'm fine, Naruto," Sasuke murmurs. "You're the one who needs to stop worrying about me so much."

Naruto stares a little longer, for a few seconds more, gaze softened by the momentary sheen in his eyes, but then it's gone, and whatever he sees, or doesn't see, seems enough to satisfy him, when he lets his hand fall away from Sasuke's chin, letting out a light scoff.

"Who even said I'm worrying about you, huh? If anything, the one I really should be worried about is _me_, because if you brother finds out we've been at it for this long, guess who he's going to blame?"

As dramatic as Naruto likes to be, no, he's not the one Itachi's going to blame.

It's never Naruto Itachi blames.

Sasuke gives a slight downward tilt of his chin, giving another low hum. "Are you going to tell on me?"

"I probably should."

Probably.

"I'm the one who keeps pushing you to let me do more, though. I don't see how my brother would have any reason to blame you, when something like that isn't even your fault."

"You know," Naruto begins slowly, squinting, face inching towards Sasuke's a little closer, "somehow, the more you keep saying things like that, the more I'm starting to think you actually do want me to get in trouble with Itachi."

"How would I get you in trouble? Considering all the things you've done, haven't you already gotten in enough trouble on your own?"

Naruto draws his head back, blinks. "...okay, yeah, that probably is true— but that doesn't mean I need you adding to it, all right."

"Is that all?"

"Really, I thought we would've already gotten past this whole thing about you not listening to me, by now," Naruto says. "You do know that I'm still older than you, right."

"I know you are."

He also knows Naruto doesn't really mean anything by it, as often as Naruto likes to think it could ever be a valid argument, like that's what gives him any kind of authority, almost as bad as his senseless assertion that being older somehow means he's always supposed to be the taller one.

_"Your brother and your dad are already kind of tall, so where you are right now is probably a good place for you to stop. It's bad enough you don't listen to me. I don't need you to be taller than me on top of that, too, so it's important for you to stay like this and make sure you don't grow anymore."_

_"Sure, Naruto."_

_"No, no—listen, I don't know why you suddenly want to start growing taller at this age, but even if you do get taller than me one day, it doesn't matter how tall you get because I'll always be older than you—at least let me have that, okay."_

Again, Naruto really just likes being dramatic.

"Seriously, though," Naruto says, "it's already been an hour." He looks to his right, glancing towards the digital clock hanging on the wall. "Well, almost an hour. Close enough."

"Really?" Sasuke blinks, following Naruto's gaze and reading the time on the clock.

"Itachi's probably going to get on me for letting you talk me into staying here this long, as it is."

Honestly, it doesn't feel like that much time has passed at all. Not counting their warm-up, exhaustion usually starts to kick in by the thirty-minute mark, give or take, which is when they start cooling down with a low-intensity set, rotating with body weight exercises. Of course it's nothing compared to Naruto's normal training routine, but the fact that it's almost been an hour into their training also means Naruto really hadn't been trying to placate him.

If that is the case, though...

"I can keep goi—"

"Yeah, uh, maybe that's what _you_ want to think. But I have to go through another one of Kakashi's intensives way too early in the morning, so..."

Never mind that Naruto still looks like he hadn't even broken a sweat, while Sasuke almost felt like his entire body was on the verge of collapse.

There's no point in calling Naruto out on the obvious excuse, though.

"We probably should've called it quits earlier." Naruto gives a considering pause. "At least it's not really that late, I guess. We still have time to cool down for a bit, change, and then I'll take you home, so I can get back to the dorms and hit the showers."

"That's fine. I think I just need some water. And I'll do the rest of my stretches at home."

Naruto starts to stand, while bending his knees, holds out a hand.

Sasuke stares at said hand.

"I mean, unless you want me to car—"

"You're not carrying me, Naruto."

Naruto flaunts one of his brighter grins, teasing and far too wide, the same wayward kind of grin that preceded the last time Naruto had tried to carry him, when they were still kids, maybe a year or so before Naruto entered the Academy.

(Because he was getting stronger, because he was being allowed to train more seriously, and because he'd apparently somehow gotten into his head that it was good idea to bring Sasuke into his excuse to demonstrate this, that day, Naruto bet he was strong enough now that he could pick up Sasuke on his own, and hold Sasuke long enough to carry him across the room.

"See, I got this. I totally—"

"Wait, Naruto, don't just—"

Despite Naruto's best attempts to assure him, as Naruto began to pick him up by the waist, while Sasuke held his arms around Naruto's shoulders, hanging on for dear life, Naruto ended up getting absolutely _nothing_—immediately, they began to topple over, their inevitable fall broken only by the sheer luck of Naruto's bed being where it was.

And then Naruto even had the nerve to be sheepish about the whole thing, with that same kind of wayward grin, lying underneath Sasuke, if possible, grinning wider at Sasuke's pointed glare.)

Sasuke sighs, reaching to take Naruto's hand.

"Come on, then." With a grunt, Naruto starts to pull him up, seemingly effortless, in a single motion, easily hoists Sasuke to his feet. "Up, you go."

While the transition from sitting to standing leaves him a little lightheaded, Sasuke doesn't think he stood up too fast, but he still finds himself stumbling forward, for some reason, somehow finds himself falling into Naruto's arms already reaching out to catch him.

"Whoa—careful."

The near fall takes even Sasuke by surprise, presses him closer to Naruto's chest, as Naruto takes on more of Sasuke's weight, quickly adjusting his arms to support him.

Naruto doesn't shy away from showing his concern, although his eyes are only slightly wide, when he peers down, as Sasuke peers into an all-encompassing blue, blinks, when he looks up to meet Naruto's gaze, vaguely taking note of the distance in height grown shorter between them, with his line of sight now reaching a little below Naruto's nose.

Suddenly, his entire body feels heavy, for a moment, all of a sudden leaves him feeling utterly boneless, as the adrenaline finally leaves him, as if his legs are going to give way beneath him.

"...it's okay," Naruto whispers, as the words disappear between them, almost says too soft, even when Sasuke feels his body slump closer, letting his head fall to rest over Naruto's shoulder. "I got you."

He's not so helpless that Naruto should have to hold him upright, but maybe he did overdo it a little, even overestimating what'd he be able to put his body through, and maybe there is some truth in all the accusations that he tends to push himself without thinking.

"...see," Naruto murmurs, still soft, breath hot tickling the shell of Sasuke's ear, sending a shiver coursing down the length of Sasuke's spine, as he places a hand over the back of Sasuke's neck . "It's what I keep telling you."

Sasuke breathes against the crook of Naruto's neck, inhaling the still surprisingly strong scent of the generic soap from Naruto's monthly supply kit. With a sigh, he begins to relax, at the tingle across his skin, again breathes in, at the touch marked by the warmth emanating from Naruto's fingers.

Even if he isn't always able to feel the warmth from Naruto's empathy, he can still feel the warmth of Naruto's familiarity, a touch that grounds him, from just being around him, when it's simply enough having Naruto beside him—a warmth that's always separated Naruto from anyone else, even from his brother, a warmth that's never had anything to do with Naruto being another magic user.

He resists the urge to take off his gloves, slowly raises arms to reach around Naruto's waist instead, fingers curling around the soft material of Naruto's shirt gathered in his palms.

It's been a while since they've done this, almost an eternity it seems, since he's even thought to really pay attention to all the other ways Naruto's already changed, not just in terms of how far Naruto's come with his magic, but physically and emotionally, too.

They don't see each other nearly every day anymore, but with each time he does see Naruto, with each change he happens to see, each becoming more apparent than the last, every seemingly minute change that steadily becomes the accumulation of too many different things at once, over the years, so many things that have not only changed between them, but changed about Naruto—physical changes on their own he wouldn't have thought to be so stark, and yet the differences are there, in Naruto's appearance alone, changes that further highlighting all the ways that Naruto's grown where Sasuke hasn't.

Height's never been the issue. He's used to Naruto being taller, but now, suddenly, Naruto's broader, too, not so much the kid he used to be, too lanky for his upper body, finally starting to grow into his arms that once seemed too long for his frame, unexpectedly, arms that feel more solid around him, feel more defined, as he feels Naruto's other hand move to gently rub his back, gently smoothing down the wrinkles of his shirt.

Or maybe he just wasn't paying enough attention before, to the small sorts of details that get lost from the countless times he's seen Naruto dressed like this, in his usual training gear, in a pair of loose pants coloured ridiculously bright, arms bared through either a black or grey, sleeveless undershirt that fits him a little snug, a standard-issue shirt made out of compression material similar to thin fabric used in the long-sleeved shirts Sasuke normally wears, and yet, on Naruto, somehow, the way Naruto wears it seems...

It's in the same way he can feel the strength in Naruto's back, covered by the thin layer of Naruto's shirt, as Naruto's muscles slowly expand and contract, as the remaining tension leaves Naruto's body, the kind strength tangible beneath Sasuke's hands.

It's not the only strength Naruto has, but it's the appearance of the kind of strong Naruto so readily used to say one day he was going to be, just as easily as he promised he'd always be the one to take care of him, suddenly the only apparent reason he needed to be stronger, and there's a growing part of Sasuke that help can't but think that maybe Naruto was forced to grow up too fast, gnaws at him in the middle of the night sometimes, just like with his brother (just like when his brother lost Shisui), so much of what Naruto's probably had to give up because of him.

Except Naruto still acts like nothing could ever hold him down, acts like there isn't anything that could ever come between them, although even then there's something different about the way Naruto carries himself now, ultimately still the same brash and self-assured kind of guy he's always been, but something Sasuke can't exactly define, maybe the kind of thing that simply comes with maturity, a deeper sort of emotional certainty that follows behind even the smallest things Naruto does.

They're only around a year apart in age, but it's still amazing how so little time between them can seemingly make so much of a difference. Already, next year is going to be Naruto's third year at the Academy.

At fifteen, only a few weeks away from sixteen, in this one moment, suddenly, Naruto's such a far cry from the clumsy kid who once broke his leg trying to use his magic to scale a fence, with plans to then go across the roof, because he and some other kids from their old neighbourhood were pretending to be ninja.

There's even something about his hair, not that much different from how he's usually worn it, but it's longer on the sides, longer than he likes to keep it, nearly as long as his dad's, although he'll probably get it cut soon; for trainees and enlistees, the grooming standards aren't as strict as they were once, but Naruto says it's still a pain to have to keep up with, since his hair grows so fast, and especially when he has such a busy schedule.

_ "I'm lucky it takes a little while longer for my facial hair to grow, but that's why I always make sure to shave, because it'd take a long time for a beard to grow in, and I don't think I'd look right with a beard just yet."_

_"What facial hair do you even have to shave, Naruto?"_

_"It's not there because I already shaved it, I said. I _shaved_ it."_

With his hair longer, Naruto really does look like his dad, but his face is still like his mom's, a little more round, but only slightly softer now, with the baby fat in his cheeks all but gone.

His smile hasn't changed, though, bringing the same kind of light to blue eyes, maybe one of the few things about him physically that doesn't seem so far gone beyond Sasuke's reach.

But despite Naruto's appearance, among so many things that have changed, the Naruto he's holding in arms, the Naruto who somehow suddenly feels heavier in his hold, this Naruto, it's still his Naruto, the Naruto he's always known— one of the very constants Sasuke still has in his life, one of the very few people he's always been able to turn to, the very same person who should know him so thoroughly well.

He's already accepted that Naruto's not always going to be there. Even with all the promises Naruto still likes to make, there are just some promises he'll never be able to keep, but sometimes, when it's just the two of them, just Naruto and him, simply having moments like this, it almost feels like everything...

It's all so childish—all of it, it's just so stupid, that there was ever a time he even once believed simply being near Naruto would make everything okay, would make everything better, simply because Naruto always seemed to know exactly what to do, immediately, knew how to calm him, seemed to always know exactly what to say.

But he's too old for that. They're both too old for that. And that's why he can't keep doing this, allowing all the differences still growing between them to become that much more apparent, allowing Naruto to keep doing the same things he's always done before—not if he wants Naruto to truly start seeing him differently, to be more than just someone Naruto has to feel obligated to protect, to prove that all the progress he's made hasn't been for nothing and won't so easily come undone.

He's already fourteen. Even under his circumstances, he shouldn't need to depend so much on other people for his own emotional wellbeing, however small that circle of people actually is, because he doesn't want to forever be someone else's responsibility—not his parents' or his brother's, not Naruto's or Kushina and Minato's.

He just doesn't want to be a burden for the rest of his life.

He needs not to be that.

Because it's still far too easy like this, how easy it's always been, having this kind of closeness with Naruto, how easy he wishes it still could be, wants it to last, the apparent ease of it he can't deny he misses, how much simpler everything once seemed back then.

Even if it's starting to feel like a different kind of closeness now, one often marked Naruto's more careful touches, marked by a strange sort of hesitation from Naruto that wasn't there before, but still a closeness he doesn't mind fall into, from Naruto, the same kind of warmth he's used to, and yet it somehow seems new, caught between them, too tenuous to name, something that feels all at once too fleeting, an increasingly more distinctive warmth that still doesn't have anything to do with Naruto's empathy.

But, then, sometimes it starts to hurt, too. Just as much, an overwhelming sense of loss that scares him, as he pulls tighter his arms around Naruto, doesn't meant to pull himself closer, fingers pressed hard against his palms, hands clutching the material of Naruto's shirt, but even wearing gloves, even through this kind of touch, there's something in him shaking, although he realises he's not even moving, but somehow he knows—he already _knows_.

And it hurts, slips inside his mind, tendrils of an emotion that just _hurts_. It hurts—it always hurts, no longer buried where it once was, where it's always been, what will remain, as if gravity were pushing down on his chest, clawing at his lungs, an indescribable grief trying to carve him _hollow_, all around him darkness, buried within, this terrible, cold sensation, this vague sense of _something_ he can't quite remember, yet renders him breathless, renders his body still, leaves him drowning on air, falling weightless towards nothing, but he wasn't ther—

(Even if they're no longer with him, even though they promised he'd never again be alone, because he still needs them, because he never meant to leave Kyuubi to be lef—)

He wasn't th—

There's a gentle lull in the back of his mind, as his fingers flex and unfurl, a soothing sensation that relaxes his grip on Naruto's shirt, reminds him that he's not alone, because he wasn't...

His thoughts turn adrift, float obscured, lost to him beneath the familiar pull of his magic, as he settles against Naruto, settles into a distinctive warmth that surrounds him.

Absently, he wonders, if this is how Naruto felt, all those times he used to talk about Sa—

"Sasuke?"

Slowly, Sasuke begins to open his eyes, not sure when they fell closed. "...hm?"

"You didn't fall asleep on me, did you?" comes another soft murmur near his ear, traced with the careful tenor of Naruto's voice, lower than what it used to be, but that's not what Naruto's really asking.

Contrary to what it seems everyone still likes to assume, it's not necessarily that he ignores his emotions. In the end, that's never worked well for anyone involved, but it is easier to keep certain emotions in check, when he doesn't have to openly acknowledge him.

He's not like Naruto in that regard. Although he's naturally more reserved, anyway, he's also just not that kind of person. However, numerous sessions with Iyashi aside, preferring not to talk about his emotions doesn't mean he isn't attuned to what he feels. He's had far too much time to himself to even try to pretend otherwise.

The default state of his empathy, the depth to which he can experience emotions, no one can ever begin to understand that, what it's like to always feel too much, and if he's found a way to help him better cope, a means that actually still works, forgive him for not being so eager to give that up any time soon.

(He already hears enough from Iyashi, about his questionable choice of coping skills, and what Iyashi likes to say about the potential risk of a nearly inevitable backlash from keeping his emotions to himself for too long, because his shields still aren't where Iyashi would like them to be.)

But it's just Naruto.

For a moment more, he doesn't move, as if nothing had changed between them, lets himself stay close, as if everything could ever return to the way it was before, because it shouldn't matter when it's just—

He pushes away the thought, dropping his arms, carefully begins to push away from Naruto, because he can't hide behind him anymore.

Running to Naruto at the first sign of something being wrong, a near immediate response, instilled within him, still far too immediate a thought, he's too old for that.

For Naruto to still have such an effect on him, he shouldn't need it—he doesn't need it.

He doesn't want it.

"No, I didn't fall asleep," he says, lifting his head from Naruto's shoulder, as Naruto's hand falls away from the back of his neck, as Naruto's arm around him lets go.

With soft exhale, he takes a couple steps back, tells himself he's not reeling from the sudden loss of warmth, standing on legs that still feel a little too wobbly, but it's nothing that won't pass with time. He's steady enough on his own.

"You all right?" Naruto says, almost frowning, lifting a hand that immediately stills raised between them, stilted falling back to his side.

At most, Naruto probably just thinks he's tired, but Sasuke knows—he already knows, the moment he even reaches out for Naruto, the moment he even thinks to bring himself closer, to go right back where he started, Naruto wouldn't hesitate to let him, some many time he's already looked to Naruto before, so many times Naruto's always been...

But he's fine.

He's fine.

He just wishes he didn't have to wake up from any of this.

"It's nothing. Just a little more sore than I expected."

"That's all?"

"I already told you I'm fine, Naruto."

"Yeah, okay." Naruto heaves a sigh, a reluctant show of compromise. "If you say so. But I meant what I said earlier, about you getting better."

"You don't have to humour me."

Naruto snorts, raising his arms and crossing them behind his head. "Since when is telling the truth humouring you?" he says. "Even though we can't go all out against each other, now that you have more experience, it's definitely starting to make a difference."

Which is just a nicer, surprisingly more tactful way of not pointing out the obvious. However, even if he were to use his own magic, even against Naruto's current level while holding back, he doubts he'd stand that much better of a chance.

"Really, Sasuke, I'm not humouring you. I just..."

Slowly, Naruto lowers his arms, tries for a softer sort of smile that ends up giving Sasuke pause, when Sasuke looks into a familiar gaze, once more, a gentleness in blue eyes that's somehow started to become more distant all the same.

He blinks when he realises he's been staring, probably a little longer than necessary. Maybe.

"I know it probably might not seem like it," Naruto says, running a hand through his hair, "and you might feel like you're not getting anywhere, but that's only because I got a head start, and I had the time to learn a lot of things, so there's no reason for you to...

"What I'm trying to say—what I mean, is that I know you keep pushing because you want to get stronger, but that doesn't mean you have to be so hard on yourself, you know."

"...but you do?"

Naruto falters, the hand running through his hair stilled. His mouth begins to part, but nothing comes out.

Of course he doesn't have anything to say.

But neither was Sasuke expecting him to.

Naruto drops his hand, through a poor attempt at deflection, tries to tack on another smile.

"Anyway," he says, already heading towards the other side of the room, towards the small table where two water bottles sit. He picks up both bottles and makes his way back to Sasuke.

"Well, at least with you getting better, it means you won't have to pull on your life magic as much," he says, then adds, "or at least you haven't been, lately."

"Mm."

"Still, I know this is the last time we get to spar before I have to leave for a while, so just remember what I said. And keep up with what you can."

"Are you packed already?" Sasuke says, taking the water bottle Naruto hands to him.

"Not yet." Naruto twists off the cap of his water bottle, lifting the rim to his mouth and taking a long sip. He swallows, smacking his lips with a sigh. "I should probably pack before this weekend—actually, I should definitely pack before this weekend. Tomorrow, even."

Sasuke bites at the corner of his lip, looking down at the water bottle he's holding.

"Hey..."

At Naruto's voice, he looks up.

"I won't be gone that long. It'll only be a week." Naruto offers a soft smile, in his eyes, the very same sort of resolute assurance that still has an effect on him Sasuke tries to ignore. "You don't have to worry."

"I didn't say I was worried." Sasuke takes a quick sip of his water, swallows too fast. "I didn't say anything."

As if Sasuke hadn't said anything, Naruto ignores him. "Plus, Iuka's been assigned our training supervisor. And then Shikamaru's been officially chosen as our squad leader, even though he tried to get out of it by saying he's being forced into the inconvenient kind of responsibility that involves giving him entirely too much work.

"But even he can't get away from how smart he is, and I don't think he really minds being put in that kind of leadership position, despite how lazy he still is about a lot of other things."

With that kind of ringing endorsement, there's no reason for Sasuke to worry, because there's apparently nothing for him to worry about, even if it'll be Naruto's first mission off world, and it'll put them the farthest they've ever been apart.

"I'm not worried about you going on your first mission off world."

"Training exercise," Naruto is quick to correct. "My first training exercise."

Sasuke _stares_.

"That's still technically a support mission, yeah," Naruto concedes, "but it's the same kind of run-of-the-mill support mission that every cadet has to go on during their second year. Basically, just to help us get used to our squad assignments, improve the team dynamic out on the field and all that."

He makes a careless wave with his free hand gesturing between them.

"I mean, we're just moving supplies to one of the refugee transition centres on Doraf. And it's not like we're actually enlistees or anything, so there's only so much we get to do there, anyway, you know. Nothing's going to happen."

There's no way Naruto can say something like that for sure, but he's also still in the habit of making promises, even if they're the kind Sasuke already knows Naruto can't always keep.

"Sasuke?"

"I know."

Naruto's sighs, glancing down at his nearly emptied water bottle. He looks up, before making his way towards the door. "Let's get you back before your brother decides to send the MPs after me."

"He's not even on Nagi, Naruto. He's not going to send anyone after you."

"Tch. Says _you_. But I already know Itachi has ways of knowing things." Naruto pauses near the entrance, stopped where their shoes are, as he waits for Sasuke. "Are you with Shadow One or Shadow Two tonight?"

"Sai. He's probably working on his sketchbook again. That's usually why he doesn't mind waiting for me."

"Still?"

With a shrug of his shoulders, Sasuke leans down to slip into his shoes. "He says it's peaceful for him."

"When's Itachi getting back?"

"Monday, at the earliest. That's when he said he's trying to get back, but..."

But Sasuke knows better than to get his hopes up.

"Oh."

"It's fine. Sai's taking me back to my parents tonight, anyway, so at least I still got to spend time with you before you have to leave."

There's a slight flush to Naruto's cheeks. "Y-yeah, that's..."

"It's what?"

"Nothing, I..." Naruto gives a small shake of his head. "Never mind. I'm just really hoping Itachi doesn't get on me for keeping you here this late."

"If I tell you he won't, will you let me drive this time?"

There's a short pause, as Naruto's lips begin to quiver, where their eyes meet, a silent challenge between them, before Naruto throws his head back, dissolving into a full-blown, obnoxious laughter.

Really, though, it's not that funny.

"I can drive."

Granted, he doesn't exactly have his licence, not yet, but the minimum age to use class three, two-person transporters on public roads is only thirteen, with the exam for a licence available at fourteen, even though his parents still won't let him apply for it.

(Depending how things go this year, they said they'll think about it next year. Maybe. It's always maybe.)

But he's ridden on Naruto's transporter often enough, that it doesn't seem so hard to drive it.

It's not even the type to go that fast. It's an older model transporter Naruto was able to fix up on his own, during his down time; it was a gift from Iou, an old mechanic on base Naruto had been helping on and off, who then gave Naruto one of the transporters he'd been keeping in his garage.

"You can stop now."

With a hand on his chest, Naruto finally stops laughing long enough to catch his breath. "Oh...oh, you're real funny, you know that—real cute."

Sasuke rolls his eyes, left hand reaching for the keypad, fingers already entering the temporary passcode to open the door. "Let's go, Naruto."

"No, really," Naruto says, not protesting the hand on his back, Sasuke giving him a much needed nudge forward, pushing him out of the room. "It's like you're actually _trying_ to get your brother to kill me."


	7. VII Little Memories Marching On

_For the first time, it feels like things are actually getting better, that maybe having empathy and life magic doesn't have to be so bad anymore. Although it isn't really the kind of normal he'd been hoping for, being with Naruto helps, because Naruto makes him feel like he doesn't have to be alone. But as Sasuke tries to move on, as he finally starts to settle into this new way of living, there are still some things he wishes he knew how to forget._

...

**VII. Little Memories Marching On (Your Little Feet Working the Machine)**

Already, it's been two years. Two years since the last time he had to stay in Reife, since the last time he came _here_, where his brother found them, the last time...

But the grass feels nice beneath his bare feet, only slightly wet from the light rain a few hours earlier. It tickles a little when he wiggles his toes, almost like it's actually moving with him, somehow, like it's actually moving towards him, even without any wind, still seems to sway, seems to stop moving when he does.

Mindful of his dress robes, he takes his time lowering himself to the ground, sitting on the large, ridiculously bright yellow and blue blanket spread across the bank. At least it's comfortable. And it's really soft, too, thick enough that he can barely feel the texture of the grass beneath him. More importantly, it was laid down far enough away from the small, narrow river that runs throughout his family's private gardens.

He folds his legs, carefully pulling at the thick white robes that still feel a little too big on him. They keep him warm, though, as humid as it already is outside, even at this time of night.

The sound of Naruto's footsteps isn't far behind him, and it isn't long until Naruto takes a seat right beside him, plopping himself on the blanket. With his free hand, he pulls at his own light blue set of traditional robes, carelessly pulling at the hem, pulling the material over his knees, to cover more of his legs outstretched in front of him.

(He's not usually comfortable wearing these more traditional types of dress robes, likes to complain that no one really wears them anymore outside special occasions, but he actually has a lot of them, a lot of nice clothes his mom usually ends up forcing him into. This time, though, she didn't have to, since he actually wanted to pick out his own outfit, explained how important it was for him to do, because it'd be the first festival he and Sasuke actually got to spend together like this.)

They just finished eating dinner with their parents, but sitting on blanket is really just time for Naruto and him, since their parents are still at the table, probably still eating, going back and forth about things that really aren't that interesting.

It wasn't like the usual kinds of meals they have, though, even if Gulden had actually prepared more than enough for a seventh person, just in case, the sort of thing that usually goes unsaid whenever their families get together like this. The large spread set out for them, it was the type of meal better suited for this sort of outside occasion, making for an easy cleanup, mostly the different kinds of finger foods that'd be typically served at the Capital around this time of the summer, during the week-long Shiki Tsukiji Festival.

With only the six of them here, it's still not a proper celebration, nothing like the last time he went to the Capital with his family, all but stuck to his brother's side, refusing to let go of his hand, as his brother guided the two of them through unusually busy streets, among the various food and game stalls, eventually stopping at a sweet dumpling shop that sold the seasonal flavours his brother introduced him to, where his bother also invited a widely grinning Shisui they happened to meet along the way.

Today's the last day, though, the first time in four years he's gotten the chance to at least participate in anything that looks close to it, even if he's still not allowed to go to the actual festival and do any of the activities; that was probably the last thing on his parents' minds while he was in Reife, and it's still not safe for him to really go anywhere just yet, especially in a situation where he'd have to deal with so many people being around him.

But the festival's always been a big deal for a lot of magic user families on Nagi, and especially his, one of the few long-standing traditions that managed to survive both Great Wars, unlike a lot of traditions and even cultures that have been lost over time.

Before, he would always hear a lot about it, from his cousins his age and other extended relatives, and there were even times where he almost felt like he was actually part of it, finally closer to this idea of normal he'd always had of his family, that maybe he could still be part of that normal, too, despite the fact he didn't show any signs of having empathy or magic then.

Although the festival has long since been important in the magic user community, it's never been limited to magic users. It's a celebration of life and death and rebirth, about honouring the sacrifices of those who came before, cherishing the beauty of each fleeting moment, and seeking comfort in the knowledge that nothing lasts forever—that's basically what everyone older than him usually says about it, the kinds of things he was too young to understand before, along the lines of what his brother would sometimes try to tell him, all those things that once upon a time had seemed so far away.

Naruto says he understands the importance of the festival, since it's a big deal to his family, too, but then he also likes to say it's just an excuse for all the ghosts to come out of hiding, the one week of the year when nobody should be letting their guards down, because _dead people souls_.

Only Naruto would be afraid of something that's not even real.

He only has himself to blame, though. Really, it's his fault for watching that scary movie his parents warned him not to watch, and although it's already been a couple years, he's the one who still believes in ghosts, convinced they were all out to get him, the one who keeps talking about being possessed by dead people souls, or being haunting by evil dead sprits, even though he's old enough to know better, no matter how many times Sasuke has to remind him that ghosts aren't real—except Naruto's not the one who can't stop seeing Shisui sometimes when he closes his eyes, the one who keeps thinking about Shisui lying there beside him not moving, eyes not blinking, staring lifeless at the sky, and yet somehow still breathing, even when he looked so very still, until Itachi—

"_You weren't supposed to do that, so why'd you have to pull me away? Why didn't you let me save him?"_

"_It's not your fault. There was nothing you could've do—"_

"_But I never really wanted him to go away. I didn't mean it, when I said I don't want him to tease me anymore. That wasn't supposed to mean I don't like him. That's why I was going to save him. Even if he wasn't moving, I know I could've saved him, because Shisui, he—Shisui didn't have to die, because you shouldn't have pulled me away, because it should've been m—"_

"Don't_...Sasuke—don't say that. Don't—"_

"_Because you and Shisui always—"_

"_I know you miss Shisui, and I know it hurts, but I couldn't lose you, too._

"_If I hadn't pulled you away, I would've _lost_ you, Sasuke. Do you understand that?_

"_...I would've lost you."_

He used to cry a lot about it then, too many times, cried himself to sleep in his brother's arms, no matter how many times everyone kept trying to convince him it wasn't his fault, because it really did feel like he was the one who took his brother's best friend away from him, at times still feels like he could've done more to save Shisui—should've done more.

If his brother hadn't found them, hadn't stopped him when he did, he knows he wouldn't have survived, because he didn't have any control over what has happening, taken over by a then unknown force that suddenly demanded everything he had to give, in order to keep Shisui alive; he still doesn't remember much of anything from that day, but the state it left him in, it was bad enough to scare his brother, bad enough to land him in what would lead to another nearly year-long stay in Reife.

Vaguely, though, in the back of his mind, despite not even knowing about life magic, that he could even have it, somehow, he'd already known what it meant to give so much of himself to someone else, yet also in the back of his mind came something louder, a much stronger desire to make Shisui stop being so _still_, and suddenly there were all these holes and tears in Shisui's body he could see, suddenly this quickly fading force within Shisui he just knew he could fix.

Because he also knew how close his brother and Shisui used to be, truly understands now what it means to be able to have someone that important in his life, more than just someone to look up to, and there's this part of him that still can't help but wonder if his brother wouldn't have been better off if Shisui was still—

There's a warmth over the back of his fist, when he opens his eyes he didn't realise he'd squeezed closed, as he slowly lets unfurl gloved fingers curled too tightly against his palm, no longer clutching at too long the bottom of his sleeve, no longer gritting his teeth, when he looks down to see Naruto's hand covering his own.

But Naruto's not looking at him. As he takes another bite out of his skewered meat, he's staring straight ahead, past the horizon, at the darkening sky, towards the bright lights of the Capital, where he probably would've been, if he didn't offer to stay behind with him instead.

It'd be a lot louder there, too, filled with more people, with the noise of the crowd, much more than just the music softly playing in the background of their parents' conversation, so many more sights and sounds, that Naruto probably would've...

("Too bad I won't get the chance to see Sakura dressed up for the festival. I'd bet she'd look really pretty if she wore something with cherry blossoms."

Sasuke frowned, trying to ignore the slight blush on Naruto's cheeks. It wasn't that he didn't trust Sakura. Because he did. His brother already said he could trust her, and with the way his magic felt around her, it actually didn't take long for him to start thinking of her as safe. He just didn't understand why Naruto had to keep bringing her up all the time. "Why wouldn't you be able to see her? Aren't you going to go to the festival this year?"

Naruto shook his head. "No, she's still stationed off world, training or something, so she probably wouldn't make it back in time, anyway." Licking his lips, he reached for the plate of thinly sliced watermelon being shared between them, the ones Gulden had prepared, helping them keep cool during the height of the summer months.

"But it wouldn't matter if she did. The last time I went, I think that was the last time you went, too, right, before everything happened? And even though it's been a while, going without you, it'd be kind of weird, don't you think?"

Sasuke let his legs dangle from the edge of the cushioned bench, for a moment, watching them sway, still not long enough for his feet to reach the ground of the large veranda in Naruto's backyard.

"...not really," he said, attention back to finishing his first slice of watermelon, almost halfway through, having paused every now and then to carefully pick out the seeds, instead of spitting them out on the other plate they were using for the rinds, like Naruto. "You used to go without me before."

"Yeah, I know, but it's different because we're friends now." Naruto grinned, showing off nearly all his teeth, mouth still sticky with the pink juice again running down his chin. "And now I don't want to go without you.")

There's still at least another thirty minutes before the fireworks start, but they can see them from here. That's why their parents are letting them stay up a little later past their normal curfews, especially since the fireworks display marks the end of the festival.

He remembers his parents letting him stay up later the last time he went, too, and he still remembers watching the fireworks with his brother, in the middle of the crowded street, with Shisui beside them, when Itachi picked him up, raised higher and higher, lifting him toward the sky, carrying him on his shoulders, so he could get a better view.

This time it's not like there's anywhere he actually has to go in the morning, but he's still expected to get up early, still expected to get ready for school, even though he has it at home, because his parents say it's important for him to have a routine.

It's still nice, though, that Naruto would even think to ask their parents to put together something like this for them, as they get older, as Naruto gets closer to so many things Sasuke simply can't do, really does mean a lot, that Naruto still manages to have all this time for him.

And as much as he wishes his brother could be here with him, almost misses those times he had to stay confined in Reife, if only because it feels like he'd been able to see so much more of his brother then, sometimes, he really doesn't know what he'd do without Naruto.

But it's kind of funny, too, how Naruto went from being almost a complete stranger, practically overnight, to one of only two people he's always thought of as _safe_.

Despite not being friends until after his empathy, they would still see each other during certain events; and even outside of that, with their moms having already been so close for a while, their parents still spent a lot of time together, although that didn't mean much when he and Naruto really just didn't get along then.

For him, he can admit some of it was probably against Naruto personally. Of course he didn't know much about him, but he'd heard enough to make up his mind, so he already had this idea of Naruto that always seemed to tug at something bitter in his chest; the way he'd hear people talk about Naruto, even from his parents, it wasn't that much different from the way he was already used to hearing people talk about his brother.

But while Naruto still wasn't on the same level as Itachi, he was close enough, close in too many ways, someone closer to the image of his own brother than Sasuke knew he'd ever be.

And, because of that, he didn't want anything to do with him.

Even if not having empathy or magic wasn't already an issue, even now, he can't deny those feelings had a lot to do with why it was so hard for him to see Naruto as someone who could be his friend. But it wasn't like Naruto was even trying to reach out to be his friend, either.

It definitely didn't do him any favours whenever he used to complain that Sasuke was too young for him to hang out with, more than a few times, even called him a baby, because he'd say that even if they did play together, Sasuke would probably end up getting hurt. Those days, Naruto really didn't hold back. Once, right in front of him, Naruto asked his mom why he couldn't be stuck with Itachi instead, or at least someone who had magic, too.

(But they were a lot younger then, too, behaving the way kids that age normally do. After a few more of their play dates went wrong, eventually, their moms finally did get the hint, and stopped trying to encourage them to be friends.)

Compared to how easy it was for Naruto to set him aside, now that Sasuke does have magic, now that the closeness he used to see between his brother and Naruto has taken on a completely different meaning, he can't even begin to imagine what the past four years would've been like without Naruto in his life.

Someone it's never hurt to be around, someone he can be close to, when it's enough just being with Naruto, sometimes all it takes to make him comfortable, as he feels the rest of his body relax, at the continued warmth at his side, absently watches a small group of fireflies dancing above Naruto's hair, as Naruto tilts his head to bite into his last piece of grilled chicken, slowly turning the skewer held in his right hand.

"...you're being quiet again."

Sasuke gives a low hum. "You're not talking, either."

With the quick turn of his head, Naruto sucks his teeth, sending a sharp stare Sasuke's way. "Because I'm still eating," he says through a mouthful of food, loudly chewing, and completely defeating the purpose in not talking in the first place.

After a few more seconds, he swallows, glancing to his right to set down his finished skewer, slowly placing it on top of the napkin he'd brought with him from the table. When he turns back to Sasuke, it's with a different sort of gaze, as he gives Sasuke's hand a light squeeze, eyes slightly narrowed, the corner of his mouth turned too close to a frown.

"This really is still okay, right?" he says. "I mean, your empathy isn't—"

"No, it's not that. It's not always about—" Sasuke huffs, shoulders bunched up. Carefully, he breathes out, lets his shoulders fall, lets his eyes wander to his lap.

"I would tell you if it was about that," he says, raising his head to again meet Naruto's eyes. "...I always tell you when it's about that."

"...yeah," Naruto says softly, as his voice trails away, turning away his gaze. "I guess I'm...

"I know it's not the same as being out there, because there are still lot of things you can't do yet, but I just thought, since it's been that long, maybe..."

No, it's not the same as getting to go to the actual festival, but it was still Naruto's idea, still Naruto who convinced both their parents this would be a good thing. And it is. It's really nice. Even though his brother isn't here, that doesn't mean he can't appreciate being able to spend time with Naruto, because on some days it really does feel like that's all he needs.

"It's fine." He tries to offer a smile, the slightest little upturn of his lips, as he moves his body to face Naruto, slipping his hand from underneath Naruto's light hold, reaching out instead to take Naruto's hand in both of his own.

"Why are you being so quiet, then?" Naruto says, turning again to face him. "Is it something somebody said, or something you don't think you should talk about?"

"I am a little tired," Sasuke admits, because it's true, since he still gets really tired a lot, yet another reason why his parents don't like him being alone, why they don't mind him sitting away from them while he's sitting with Naruto, but it's not that bad right now. It's not like he's too tired to move or anything.

"You sure you don't want to—"

"I'm okay. Just thinking."

"Just thinking?"

"Mm. I know that's not something you can relate to, but for people who are used to—"

Again, Naruto sucks his teeth, returns Sasuke's teasing with another pointed glare, although he doesn't pull away from Sasuke holding his hand. "_You._ I know I already told you to stop this."

"Stop what?"

"Don't try to use that face around me—this whole thing you have about trying to make fun of me, I thought we decided you weren't going to do it anymore."

"I don't remember deciding anything like that with you."

Naruto purses his lips, as his shoulders begin to sag a little, not exactly pouting but definitely sulking. "All I'm asking for is one thing," he mumbles. "Why can't you just give me this one thing?"

Because he doesn't like seeing Naruto being so hard on himself, doesn't like to see Naruto not acting like the Naruto he's come to know, that's what he doesn't say. Because although his emotional shields really are getting better, even without his empathy, he notices the kinds of things Naruto gets worked up about, with a lot of those things having to do with him, no matter how much he tries not to make Naruto worry so much—how hard he keeps trying to make everyone stop worrying so much about him.

All he can do is try to make Naruto feel better, using one of the only ways he knows how.

(Because he always likes it better when Naruto smiles.)

"Because it's still empty up there, and that's why everything's still quiet when I'm around you."

"Whatever, Sasuke." Naruto gives him an unimpressed look, one that then quickly turns questioning after a quick glance at Sasuke's hands, making both of Naruto's eyebrows go up. "I thought Iyashi said you were supposed to stop using your empathy like that so much."

"He did."

"And..."

"And I told him it's still harder not sharing my empathy with you. Especially since you already said you don't mind. I'm just doing what feels natural to do."

"...oh." At Sasuke's half-shrug, Naruto gives another thoughtful glance towards their hands, at Sasuke's fingers pressing gently over the side of his palm. "Is this one of those life magic things, or..."

"I guess. Maybe. Sometimes, it still feels like I really can't help it. Not as bad as before, but I know there are still too many times when I don't realise what I'm doing. I realise I'm doing it now, because it's something I decided I wanted to do, but my empathy's always been like that with you and Itachi, anyway, so..."

"Well, that's not, _not_ true, but—"

There's a faint rustle, from just ahead of them, closer towards the river, the sound of this almost quiet sort of shuffle coming from between tall blades of green, followed by a slight movement, too quick a flash of black and white that seems to disappear right back into the long grass.

Beside him, from the corner of his eye, he sees Naruto goes completely still.

It's probably nothing, considering he can't pick up on anything, and a quick look at the table tells him their parents aren't too concerned, either, still deep in their conversation, but Naruto's already been a little jumpy since the start of the festival, anyway.

"...what was that?" comes the whisper close to his ear, when he feels Naruto tense, as the rustling noise comes again.

Sasuke squints, carefully letting go of Naruto's hand. He still doesn't sense anything, nothing apart from the smaller life signatures it's still taking him time to learn how to separate; in theory, anything that has a life force, even the smallest little ant, he can pick up on it, if he's close enough, can find it, as long as he's concentrating hard enough, but it's just a lot harder to do than it sounds like it should be.

"What if it's a ghost?" Naruto says, a stream of words at first uttered low, starts to turn a little higher, words that steadily grow with the rising panic in his voice. "Sasuke—Sasuke, what if it's the dead people souls finally coming out to possess us?"

Ignoring Naruto's dramatics, Sasuke unfolds his legs, sits up so he can get a better look. He begins to stand, away from the blanket, takes a few steps forward, careful of the bottom of white his robes, walks a little closer, trying to peek over the grass that only reaches a little below his covered knees.

From behind him, he hears Naruto telling him to stop, but he ignores that, too, ignores the hand that's already grabbed on to the back of his right sleeve, already moving him to pull him—

"Sasuke, don't—"

But Sasuke's already kneeling down again, having already found the source of the sound, a tiny little life, barely half the length of his forearm, small enough that it probably just managed to wander off on its own.

He's never seen one like this before, though, not really striped, but a strange mishmash of mostly dark blue scales and the occasional patches of white underneath its belly, with light green eyes that seem to follow him, somehow, almost like it's drawn towards him, when it slowly lowers and then raises its snout.

But it's not that he doesn't already know about this kind of thing. His brother told him, even showed him, so he knows most species in their family's gardens are harmless and don't even grow to be very long, which is why he doesn't think anything of it, when he starts to push back his left sleeve, bunching up the material past his elbow, already extending his arm and holding it out towards the ground.

The tiny little life before him, something flickers over its eyes, as it again lowers its head, before moving on to Sasuke's palm, moving to crawl along Sasuke's arm, its tail gently curling around Sasuke's wrist.

Of course it's not a ghost. He wasn't even expecting it to be. Like he keeps telling Naruto, ghosts aren't real.

However, when he turns around to show Naruto what he's found, as he stands, that's when he realises Naruto's hand isn't gripping his other sleeve anymore, isn't going to pull him back, because Naruto's no longer next to him, already _gone_, all the way on the other side of the large blanket, little by little, inching even closer towards the edge.

"...Naruto?"

And then Naruto has this weird expression, as his face slowly starts to turn pale, like he's actually seen a—

Slowly, Sasuke takes a small step forward, suddenly stops, watching Naruto scrambling farther away from him. He nearly flies stumbling backwards over his hands and feet, leaving the blanket scrunched beneath him, as he tries to put even more distance between them, before suddenly standing, almost falling, face flushed, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"Naruto, what's wro—"

"Put it down, Sasuke," Naruto hisses. "_Put it down, now—__right now, put it down._"

Sasuke pauses for a moment, glances to the tiny little life now settled comfortably over his shoulder, its tiny head even cocked to the side a little, as it seems to stare just as confused at a glaring Naruto.

"It's just a—"

"Get away from that thing before it _eats_ you," Naruto cuts him off with a harsh whisper, still pointing at him with a frantic finger, and Sasuke just looks at him, just _looks_, because while he doesn't roll his eyes, the feeling comes close enough to count.

"It's not going to eat you, Naruto. It's not even going to hurt you."

"And how would you even know?"

"Because Itachi's already shown me species like this before, and he says the ones in the gardens are harmless. They don't grow that long, and they're not even venomous, so they can't hurt you." Sasuke pauses, giving a thoughtful glance to his left arm, his skin exposed, bare except for his gloves. He looks up, adding, almost as an afterthought, "Plus, I think I can sense that kind of thing now."

"Uh, you _think?"_

"Probably, yeah." Again, Sasuke looks to his shoulder, purposely not paying attention to the sheer amount of disbelief in Naruto's disbelieving stare.

"Now's not the time to _think_, Sasuke." Dropping his arm, Naruto immediately throws his hands up in the air, flailing a little, before pressing both palms against either side of his head. "Now's the time to _learn to read the situation better._"

Sometimes, he just doesn't get it.

Really.

Naruto always likes to point out the fact that he's older, that he's taller, and that's why Sasuke should always respect his elders by listening to him, since that's what everyone always tells Sasuke, anyway, which Naruto complains is the reason why he wants to at least make it look like he's trying to set a good example, even though Sasuke's secret, one true purpose must be to make things harder for him in life—but then Naruto's the one who still nags him about needing help with his homework, the one who still gets in trouble every now and then for pulling pranks at school, the one who got in a whole lot of trouble for trying to use his magic to scale the fence in order to jump across the roof.

Because Naruto's still the one who _accidently_ unleashed too much of his magic at once, last week, while training with his dad, nearly _destroyed_ no small part of his already pretty large backyard, with the strength of winds that tore right through one of the tallest and thickest trees Sasuke's ever seen, that same Naruto...

...is afraid of a tiny little snake.

"Anyway," Sasuke says, "I'm pretty sure it's more afraid of you. Because it is a lot smaller than you."

He tries to take another step forward, tries to prove to Naruto that the baby snake really won't hurt him, but that doesn't end up working well, either, with Naruto shrinking back, shaking his head.

The moment Sasuke stops, though, that's the moment it happens, what starts out the painful beginnings of a slow whine, when Naruto hugs himself, slightly faced away, holding his arms over his chest, like he actually needs any kind of protection from the tiny little snake curling its tail a little tighter around Sasuke's shoulder, while making the most painful looking face, takes too long to draw out this meek little screech of a whimper that even then barely makes any noise.

Sasuke looks to their parents not too far off in the distance, their faces lit by the warm light from the standing lamps placed around the square table, still caught up in whatever conversation, apparently laughing at something Minato just said, before turning his attention back to the pitiful expression on Naruto's face.

It actually startles him a little, the sound that's somehow still coming out of Naruto's mouth, this strangely soft, high-pitched squeak that sort of then just disappears into a passing breeze.

(He knows Naruto's voice has already started to break, so he's used to Naruto making the weirdest sounds, seemingly out of nowhere, the cracks in his voice that come every once in a while, as embarrassed as Naruto can still get about it sometimes, although, really, he didn't know Naruto's voice could even go that high.)

Amazingly enough, none of this is attracting the attention of their parents. Then again, nothing's really wrong, and they're probably already used to how Naruto just gets sometimes, since Sasuke's apparently the only one who still doesn't really understand this side of Naruto.

After another long moment of simply staring, finally, he gives in to a sigh. As much sense as this whole scene doesn't make, Naruto's still...Naruto, and while he can say that Naruto is a lot of things, including one of the strongest people he knows, one of the bravest, and definitely one of the most emotional criers he knows, if Naruto wasn't like this, if he reacted any other way, well, then, he wouldn't be _Naruto_.

He still doesn't sense anything bad from the snake, and almost wishes he could let it stay a little longer, but Naruto is still...being Naruto, so he takes a short walk back to the area where he found the snake, carefully kneels down, and lowers his arm towards the ground.

For a moment, the snake doesn't move, seems almost reluctant to leave, still resting comfortably over his shoulder, nestled into the folds of his robes, but then it gradually starts to make its way along his arm, past his wrist, slipping from his palm and on to the ground, where it doesn't look back, all but vanishing into the blades of grass.

Maybe he'll see it again.

Maybe he won't.

When he turns around, though, Naruto still hasn't moved, arms crossed, still staring from that same spot, watching the tall grass, where the tiny little snake could no longer be seen.

"You're not going to stand over there all night, are you?" Sasuke frowns, carefully loosening the gathered material of his bunched sleeve and tugging it back down his arm. He knew it'd probably get a little wrinkled, but at least it doesn't look too bad. "The snake's already gone, so you can come back now. You're going to miss the fireworks like that."

"N-n-no, I think I can see them fine from here. Just fine."

"I thought you wanted to watch the fireworks together?"

"I do want us to watch the fireworks together. And we can still watch them together without me standing next to you."

"Aren't you the one who keeps saying you're not supposed to leave me alone?"

"Of course I'm not supposed to leave you alone—I'm not going to leave you alone. I just think it'd be better to for me to stay close to you from a distance.

"Like, where I am right now. Right here. Way, way over not there."

Sasuke gives a light snort, already moving to close the distance between them. It doesn't take that long before he's lifting his head, raising his gaze to meet slightly narrowed blue eyes.

"Stop being such a baby, and come sit and watch the fireworks with me."

He gently pulls on Naruto's arms, as Naruto lets them fall uncrossed, reaches again for Naruto's hand, this time holding them both, only a little bigger than his own, as he reaches for the warmth that's always been there to soothe him, holds on to the warmth that's always been a comfort to him.

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Naruto agrees, breathes out with a soft sigh, as his shoulders fall, allowing Sasuke to pull him along, back towards the ridiculously bright yellow and blue blanket, closer to the middle, where Sasuke then pulls him down to take a seat.

Naruto sniffs, definitely pouting now, chin turned up high, head slightly turned to the side, trying to ignore the small, teasing smile on Sasuke's face.

"...not my fault I don't like snakes."


End file.
